


Her Wayward Children

by 00Wandering_Ghost00



Series: Drisraen Saga [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Forgotten Realms
Genre: Action/Adventure, Agnostic Character, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Always read the author's note for possible trigger warnings, And they aren't nice mostly, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Bad coping mechanisms, Based on a tabletop RPG campaign that went on too long, Character of Faith, Cults, Custom Drow City, Dark Elves, Dark Fantasy, Drama, Driders, Drinking problems, Drow, Drow will be drow, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Elves, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Issues, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, I did my homework tho, M/M, May contain official FR material but I added a lot of non-canon elements, Melodrama, Mild Smut, Not Beta Read, Psychological issues, Questioning Beliefs, Questioning One's Own Faith, Rampant Misandry (priestesses of Lolth anyone), Some comedy, Survivors, Unlikable Heroine, Written by a non-native English speaker, dark themes, don't blame me, first draft, possible inaccuracies, serial murders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 60,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24147379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00Wandering_Ghost00/pseuds/00Wandering_Ghost00
Summary: A freshly anointed High-Priestess of Lolth has a crisis of faith after getting visions from a different divine entity. She dismisses them while keep on doing the usual cutthroat scheming and deceiving to gain fame and power for herself and of course, bring glory to her House. Her faith is tested and finds lacking though, so she willingly takes on a journey to the surface world, officially on a suicide mission but in reality to establish a new home and to follow a different god.A novel of sort based loosely on a long-term RPG campaign I ran (and it’s still ongoing). It may contain disturbing themes, and not very canon-compliant (I use custom made places for example, instead of already existing ones), but I tried to fit it into the pre-built world of the Forgotten Realms as much as I could. Also, if you’re easily triggered, I might suggest always reading the author’s notes section before proceeding with every chapter, or just skipping this entirely.And again, Disclaimer: English is not my native language, so bear with my (probably) repetitive and wonky word usage. Thank you, and sorry.
Relationships: Adriel Drisraen/Karissa Verran, Kimaryon Vel'adar/Rizzen Kazzaren, Lilith Drisraen/Adriel Drisraen, Lilith Drisraen/Rizzen Kazzaren, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Shar'Nadal Drisraen/Nini Spiderlegs, male oc/male oc
Series: Drisraen Saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1742578
Comments: 164
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the protagonists and their dysfunctional family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive trigger warnings for this chapter: Normalized systemic misandry, arranged marriage with a minor, implied incest, implied/referenced child abuse, main character basically bullying her way through the chapter, mentions of slavery.
> 
> Really, I meant it in the tags. If you're faint of heart (and/or easily triggered), skip this.
> 
> Update: A huge "thank you" goes to aaron_mag for correcting my wonky tense! :)

The proud merchant city of Zeberra span over the caverns deep under what surface dwelling folks called Cormanthor. Little did its inhabitants know about old Myth Drannor of dubious fame sitting in top of them, over miles and miles of stone and soil. The sole drow female looking over the city with a seemingly indifferent face had no clue for sure. She just became anointed as high-priestess of Lolth and her cleavage swelled by both pride and uneasy anticipation of a possible blade into it.

If she wanted to be honest with herself – though no sane drow would ever risk being honest, not even to themselves mind – she hated this place. Her family, the prominent House Drisraen came from another underground city by the name of Ennriel, a mere three decades ago. Lilith – for this is the name of our heroine – sneered bitterly at the thought of her childhood home. When the family left Ennriel, it was in the middle of a slave rebellion, which eventually succeeded and destroyed the drow city-state. Where were the mighty priestesses and house wizards you ask?

Well, you know how it is… Some house wizards saw an opportunity to abandon ship, and they did. The capricious Spider-Queen decided that leaving her own faithful in hot water sounds like a lot of fun, so she withdrew power from random priestesses and whole noble Houses, prompting them to attack each other while the rebels nipped their numbers a little. Every single time. The fall of Ennriel wasn’t immediate, it happened gradually like the forming of a stalactite by tiny water droplets through countless decades of time. And no matter how many times Lilith replayed it in her mind, she still couldn’t figure out what could be done to prevent it.

Her brooding was interrupted by the sound of boots treading the flagstone underneath her. She turned her gaze towards their source and saw her brother Shar’Nadal entering the building, leaving his lizard steed to the care of the house-staff. Lilith left her vantage point on the balcony, and went downstairs to greet him. While gracefully descending down the stairs – for unlike in many drow houses, in Castle Drisraen there were many stairs. A way to keep servants and even family members physically active in Matron Mother Drisinil’s opinion – Lilith’s thoughts wandered back a few decades once again, this time only days before her family left Ennriel, and her little brother was born.

She remembered holding him in her hands looking at him, feeling equally repulsed and irritated by the baby’s mere presence, and it didn’t change for a long time. She had to take care for little Shar’Nadal from time and time again, when her studies permitted – or in some cases demanded – it, and she knew that he was mercilessly reminded of his low status as a male on a daily basis. Yet she sometimes saw a spark of defiance in Shar’Nadal’s eyes. She did not hesitate to give him another lesson in case this defiance raised its head, but soon she learned that it was useless.

No matter how many lashes, kicks, hits and berating he got, Shar’Nadal’s eyes always held that little spark. And after a while, Lilith began to like seeing it. She still teased her – now all grown up – brother in every occasion, but her remarks became much less offensive, rather playful.

It never occurred to her what this change of heart towards Shar’Nadal might look like to anyone on the outside, and it never really meant much to her anyway. Some relatives spread rumours about her wanting to have Shar’Nadal as her mate – not unusual among drow nobles, mind you – or wanting to marry him off to one of the Matrons of an allied House, even the ridiculous notion that somehow Shar’Nadal mesmerized her and his wicked eyelash-batting saved him from future beatings for the grave sin of having Y-chromosomes. 

It was all nonsense but Lilith let them have their petty little gossips. She arrived at the bottom of the stairs the exact same moment her brother entered the hall, trampling over the two goblins scrubbing the floor.

“It’s about time you deign to come home.” she began, forcing her features to stay indifferent and her tone slightly intimidating. “Matron Mother Drisinil wants to see us.”

Shar’Nadal let out a little groan in frustration. “And are we all required to attend? Can’t I just go to my quarters and read?”

Lilith wanted to ask the same question, but proper drow etiquette demanded otherwise. “Mind your tongue, dear brother!” she hissed. “If the Matron Mother wishes to see you, you obey even if you’re dying.”

Shar’Nadal made a confused expression “But if I’m dying, I can’t really fulfil her orders, can I?”

Lilith casually grabbed her whip “Want to test it?”

Shar’Nadal shook his head. “Nah. I heard dying is not good for your health.”

“So is being cheeky.” Lilith riposted.

“But you love it when I’m cheeky.” Shar’Nadal’s grin made her almost lose her composure. Almost.

“You’re a pain in the arse.” she grumbled.

“I had great teachers in that subject.” Shar’Nadal’s grin became wider. “Besides, that was very un-priestessly of you.”

Lilith’s hand lashed out grabbing her brother’s waist-length hair. “Did you dare criticize a high-priestess?” she drawled with Shar’Nadal’s constant “ow-ow” as background music.

“Of course not!” the male drow laughed nervously, wishing his sister to finally let go of his hair.

“Good.” Lilith nodded and pushed him away.

Shar’Nadal massaged his scalp while turning his head away from his sister towards the disgruntled goblins. “Lead the way, your Highness.” he sneered.

Lilith was about to turn around and go forward, but heard the last comment. “I swear to the Goddess Shar’Nadal, one more word and I will kick your sorry ass. Behave yourself, unless you want to bring shame on both of us.”

After their mother died in an alleged accident – one devised by one of their aunts as Lilith suspected – she was in charge of their side of the family. Lilith was glad that her branch of the family tree was composed of only her and Shar’Nadal, no spouses and fathers and other brothers or sisters to look out for.

The downside of it was that if her brother did something wrong, she was the one to blame for not training him properly or not be able to control him properly. And Shar’Nadal was adept at testing his limits. He treaded only inches away from her, as opposed to the sizeable distance he ought to have behind a priestess – unless it’s dangerous territory. There, males always go first because they’re expendable. Lilith sighed and stopped in front of the double door leading to the Matron’s throne room, looking at her brother.

“Don’t speak unless spoken to.” she lectured him. Shar’Nadal nodded. “Also, don’t fidget. Don’t yawn. Don’t stare at the ceiling, counting spider webs and spiderlings. Don’t…” Lilith kept on reminding her brother but Shar’Nadal interrupted her

“Yes, yes I know. Don’t cough, don’t blink, don’t breathe, be a part of the furniture. Got it.”

They entered the vast chamber adorned with spider motifs and intricate columns to support the weight of the ceiling, drapes hanging between them in the trademark black and dark blue colours of House Drisraen. The throne resembling a spider in its web stood on a dais, atop on it sat an elderly drow lady, still regal in posture and attire.

Lilith admired her grandmother and her queenly presence then her gaze wandered around the assembled family. Her two aunts Vimora and Allindra, their spouses, children were all there, and somewhere in the back there stood the patron of the house, a small and effeminate drow male, centuries the Matron’s junior. As Lilith could tell from where she was standing, he was even younger than Shar’Nadal.

Though nothing out of custom for drow, Lilith somehow found having a much younger spouse problematic, though definitely saw the advantages of showing such a treasure off to the other priestesses and Matron Mothers. She stole a glance to her brother, and his delicate features from his slightly pointy nose to his definitely pointy ears and high cheekbones, she began to worry. Shar’Nadal was easy on the eyes, and it was about time his looks were put to good use in the name of the House.

What if Mother Drisinil wants to marry him off to the highest bidder? Lilith swallowed her worry. After all, wasn’t this the sole purpose of males in their society? To be a commodity they buy and sell? She sighed and patted her brother on the shoulder, not wasting any more thoughts on the matter.

Shar’Nadal on the other hand was fairly aware of the same problems his sister mused about. Only he didn’t stop musing about them. He found his gaze wandered around the family as well, but while Lilith counted the competition, Shar’Nadal tried to count how many other males were in the room, and how often they were permitted to speak, opposed to the female family members. He found the balance to be outrageously off.

There was his cousin Adriel, his father Zathriel, the weaponsmaster of the House, the old wizard Ronwen, Mother Drisinil’s father and alleged former patron on the chamber’s far side. On the nearer side, there stood their other cousins Lyrion and his twin brother Nes’rar, behind them their plain and tired father Isvyn, and not counting Shar’Nadal himself, only the patron of the house remained. Shar’Nadal noted grimly that they didn’t even know his name.

He – much like his sister – found the union between their near-millennium old grandmother and a boy merely out of childhood repulsive, but for different reasons. Lilith could justify the custom for herself as much as she wanted, Shar’Nadal was positively disgusted by it. And he knew he couldn't really hide his expressions, so he looked away from the boy now locking gazes with him. Shar’Nadal saw his future in those tired red eyes. And he did not like that future one bit.

“All of you might know, what time of the year is it.” Matron Drisinil’s voice tore both Lilith and Shar’Nadal out of their respective foreboding thoughts. “It is the annual hunt, and I expect all of you to bring glory and wealth to this house.”

both Vimora and Allindra looked at their niece and sneered. “Matron Mother, if I may speak…” Allindra turned back to her mother. “There is another special occasion this year. And it involves our newest high-priestess.”

Drisinil was confused for a moment, then her gaze wandered over to Lilith, and her predatory features softened a bit.

“Oh, yes! My dear granddaughter! Come here child, let me look at you!”

Lilith went forth proudly, stopping a few steps in front of the dais and bowing her head. “Mother Drisinil…”

“I heard good things about you, child.” the elder drow lady mused. “And if my memory is correct, this year you will be the one representing your mother’s side of the family.”

“Yes, Matron Mother.” Lilith answered, though it wasn’t a question. Mother Drisinil never asked questions. She stated facts and they were always true, even if they weren’t. Any member of the family who dared to oppose her ended up dead or worse.

“I’m still reeling from the loss of your dear mother…” she shook her head slowly. “To end her life so horribly… I still wonder who’s responsible.”

“So am I, Mother Drisinil.” Lilith swallowed the bile that threatened to come out of her mouth at the mention of her mother.

Though they barely could stand each other, Lilith indeed wanted to know who was responsible for throwing her mother off from one of the bridges connecting Zeberra’s two halves, if only to thank them.

“All eyes are on you then, little Lilith.” Drisinil grinned at her granddaughter. “Bring our house glory, and you will be rewarded.”

The annual hunt was something House Drisraen brought from Ennriel, where it was a common custom for the noble Houses to compete in a hunting-looting-pillaging spree, and the House hoarding the biggest pile of loot won the contest. Of course, these annual hunts often ended in bloody wars among the Houses, because the real prize was to be in the ruling 8.

House Drisraen once held the position of second for a century despite assassination attempts and annual hunts. Lilith sighed in relief after they left the throne room, but her worries began to pile up on top of each other as she saw her brother approaching the patron, slipping away as unseen as probably his whole life was.

Shar’Nadal spoke to the other drow for quite a while, and it angered Lilith as much as made her worry, but she let them. After all, nothing wrong can come if she lets the two males chitchat. She knew she wasn’t interested in anything they want to talk about, she had a hunt to organize and competition to measure.

* * *

And there was a competition she could never stand a chance against with only his brother on her side. Lilith began to fear that she would fail no matter what, and failure was never an option. Her foul mood worsened when she learned that Shar’Nadal spent a lot of time with the patron of the house instead of helping her plan the course of action they need to take in order to defeat their aunts and cousins in the looting race.

“Tell me one good reason why shouldn’t I just throw you on an altar and sacrifice your worthless soul to the Goddess?” she yelled at her brother not a day after their meeting with Mother Drisinil.

“Maybe because – as you so aptly mentioned – my soul is worthless? And you will only anger the Spider Queen by giving it to her.” Shar’Nadal replied but backed away from Lilith slowly.

“I need your help, no matter how much I hate to say it.” Lilith grumbled and put her whip aside. “Though I might remind you dear brother, if you fail me, the consequences will be fatal for you!”

Shar’Nadal swallowed a knot that miraculously appeared in his throat. “But if you kill me, you’ll be left alone.” he tried to jest, but his tone sounded way too serious.

“Better alone than cursed with a good-for-nothing male like you!” Lilith riposted out of spite, and shoved her brother to the wall. “Focus! We have to find out how to gather treasure and hunt a beast to make Mother Drisinil proud, or else we’ll be shamed and even exiled from the House! It’s not a game, Shar’Nadal! We could die! Both of us!” Her anger and desperation were visible.

“I think I know something that might help us…” Shar’Nadal muttered awkwardly.

“Spit it out!” Lilith hissed, still holding the male drow’s throat in her grip.

“When I was out in the market the other day, I heard some folks talking about a mercenary group camping near Zeberra. We could talk with them, hire them to help us.” Shar’Nadal stuttered.

Lilith contemplated it for a moment, but shook her head. “No. Mercenaries would cost too much, besides they’d probably want their share from anything we find.”

Shar’Nadal sighed as he felt the priestess’ grip easing on his neck. “Then how about we ask uncle Zathriel to lend some of the House soldiers to us? We have the right…”

Lilith shook her head. “No. Absolutely out of the question. Zathriel is the spouse of the competition, he’ll go straight to aunt Vimora, and report about our weaknesses. We have to find another way.”

Shar’Nadal pushed himself from the wall and his hair back from his face. “Well dear sister, you have to decide then. Either we get in bed with the competition, or hire mercenaries. I don’t see any other options knocking on our door.”

Lilith knew it well enough; she was just too proud to admit that her brother outsmarted her this time. “Very well… Let’s see who in the family could help us…”

Shar’Nadal played with a lock of his hair, leaning to the wall while Lilith went around the room in circles. “How about Nym?” he asked after a while.

“Who?” Lilith asked back.

“You know, one nobody would suspect helping us, yet has enough power to order some soldiers around over the grumpy head of uncle Zath.” Shar’Nadal answered casually.

“You mean… Mother Drisinil’s concubine?” Lilith almost laughed. “Come on, you’re better than that.”

“No, listen!” her brother came closer to her in one stride “Nym might be young, and seemingly harmless, but I spoke with him yesterday. He has a great deal of influence on Mother Drisinil, because she still finds him entertaining. We might as well use it while it lasts.”

Lilith permitted herself a wicked little smile. “I always knew it was a good idea to spare you, little brother…”

Finding Nym alone was a harder task than Lilith imagined though. The boy was always at Mother Drisinil’s side, either sitting by her feet like some sort of pet while the elder Matron absent-mindedly stroke his long hair, or standing motionlessly behind her like her shadow. After a whole day of futile attempts at catching the concubine alone, Lilith dared to send a message directly to him arranging a private meeting.

She knew the sort of scandal it would make if anyone would see them, so she timed it after the evening mass in the chapel. Shar’Nadal was required to be there as well, for Lilith had a hunch that the younger male would be a little bit more forthcoming if he wasn't alone with a priestess.

And so it happened, after the evening mass was done, Lilith stayed behind in the chapel, under the statue of Lolth and eyed the group of dark elves slowly making their way to the exit. Shar’Nadal still stood at his spot, cowl pulled into his face so no one exactly saw him not paying attention. Lilith began to think the message had been intercepted or ignored, when she heard a low voice next to her.

“Excuse me, sister Lilith? You wanted my presence for something.”

She turned around to face the plain black robe and cowl withdrawn to reveal the pretty face of the Matron’s current spouse.

“That I have, _ilharn.”_ Lilith answered using the useless title proper etiquette still demanded for the usually short-lived mates of Matron Mothers. “I require your help in persuading Mother Drisinil to give me a squadron of the house’s soldiers, and five of the lizard-riders.”

The concubine nearly laughed, but caught himself in time, only emitting a small peep. “And what makes you think I can do that?” he asked humbly.

Lilith felt her blood pressure rising. She didn’t have time for the male’s stupid games. “I will not say it again. I will win the annual hunt, and I require troops and servants. This is my right, just as much as my aunt’s.”

Nym swallowed and took a step backward, never looking Lilith in the eye. “I understand this, mistress. But I can’t help you.”

Lilith grabbed his robe before he could get out of her reach. “Not so fast…”

Shar’Nadal decided that now is the perfect time to insert himself between his sister and the terrified young drow.

“Nym, please hear us out!” he gently disentangled Lilith’s fingers from Nym’s clothes. “We really need your help. Also, we know that Mother Drisinil listens to you. What my sister wanted to say is that all we need is that you ask it from her. Nothing more.”

Nym’s eyes darted towards the exit and he was visibly shaking. “I can’t…” he whispered.

“Yes, you can.” Shar’Nadal held Nym’s shoulders and reached for the other male’s face to turn it back towards him. “Hey, it’s going to be alright. One question, when you see she’s in the right mood for it.”

Ignoring Lilith’s derisive snort, he continued. “If she says no, you come and tell us so, and we plan something else. All right? No hard feelings, no obligations, just one simple question, and a note back to us. That is all.”

Nym was still shaking when he nodded and Shar’Nadal released him.

“Good.” Lilith grumbled. “I thought we’d never get an answer out of him…”

Shar’Nadal cast a disapproving glance at her, but she ignored it. “Go then. I need answers fast.”

Nym bowed his head, and headed for the exit, but Lilith’s voice stopped him. “And _ilharn!_ ”

Nym turned back towards the priestess, who stared at him with her piercing gaze. “If you tell anyone about our arrangement, or dare to call me “sister” ever again, I’ll rip your tongue out.”

* * *

Three days later Lilith sat in the saddle of one of House Drisraen’s lizards, behind a house soldier, ordering them to march towards the caverns near their home city.

Shar’Nadal went on foot among the soldiers, and thought about his sister’s plans. Lilith wanted to explore a cavern-system thought to be deserted by everyone in Zeberra, and see it for herself. Any kind of monster they come across might serve as trophies or if they have treasure, they could score points for them.

Lilith and Shar’Nadal already saw their aunt Vimora’s party return to House Drisraen with a small army of slaves and several cartsful of stolen goods. Lilith wasn’t going to stay behind for long, if she could help it. Shar’Nadal was yet worried.

What if the caverns are indeed deserted? What if they can’t find enough loot in the mere tenday they have to complete the mission? He never saw any real battles himself, only the wrong side of the practice sword of his uncle, but he couldn’t help but hope they will find enough monsters and treasure.

The soldiers were signing to each other, and Shar’Nadal understood that they also worried about the endgame. After all, no one really knew what happened to the losers…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers and passersby! (Or bypassers. Choose the one you fancy more.)
> 
> This is my first fiction in this fandom, and I don't even know if it qualifies as fanfiction, because I use characters made by myself and my friends and put them in the Forgotten Realms, or rather an alternate universe of it. Blame it on me DM-ing a lot, and having not much inclination to always conform to the source material 100%. 
> 
> That said, I'd like to issue another reminder that the first two books (I plan this to be a trilogy) are set in DnD's 3.0-3.5 edition timeline, so I use a lot of stuff from there. Rules of magic are sometimes twisted to support the narrative. 
> 
> Also, the cheeky/sarcastic writing style with "world breaks" like mentioning Y-chromosomes will stay throughout the story, so if it's putting you off, then off is the general direction in which I would like you to bug. Toodles!
> 
> For those of you who stay, have fun!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The catch of our anti-heroes, and the result of the annual hunt. Shar'Nadal also has some sad predictions for his future life in drow society.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again and thank you for reading! 
> 
> Another batch of massive warnings for this one: normalized systemic misandry (really, it will stay throughout the book, so expect it even if I don't list it here), suicide, contemplating of suicide, mentions of incest, human (elf) sacrifice, dragon slaying, mentioning of taxidermy, abusive behaviour, domestic violence, cursing, some slight blood and gore, ugly page-setting.
> 
> Again, for the faint of heart, or easily triggered: This whole story is about a horrible society with horrible people. Believe me, it won't get better. Read only at your own responsibility!
> 
> Update: A huge thank you goes once again for aaron_mag for the corrections! <3

Their company swept through the cavern system near their city-state, but had no luck for days. All the goblin lairs were empty and deserted, hook horrors already slain, and no sign of any kind of treasure for many-many miles away. Lilith had a little voice in her head telling her that this adventurewas a total failure, but she pushed it aside with steely determination. Failure was never an option. She took a glance at her brother and the scouts, signing between themselves wildly. Lilith permitted herself an amused hum, and casually strutted towards the small group of males. Much to her displeasure, Shar’Nadal spotted her, and gestured for his companions to stop.

“May I hear what you boys are so enthusiastic about?” Lilith queried with a slightly intimidating, yet interested tone.

“Oh, that…” Shar’Nadal laughed nervously “Um, you know… We’ve been looking all over these parts of the Underdark, and no sign of anything of value… If you don’t count some rare species of mushroom.”

“So?” Lilith drawled, already playing with the hilt of her whip.

“So, Lesaonar here…” Shar’Nadal pointed towards one of the scouts “…suggested that we should take our chances a little bit further away from Zeberra’s outskirts. We were discussing which way should we go… In case you say yes to our suggestion.”

Lilith felt mad but equally impressed.

“Very well.” she nodded and snapped her fingers towards the scout. “You… Lesainer was it?” The scout looked at her with a blank expression and stood up. “Tell us what you have in mind!” Lilith ordered, and the scout began to speak.

“As you probably know mistress, there are several tunnels leading deeper underground from here. One of them was used as a route to a mithril mine a century ago, until the mine was emptied and shut down.”

Lilith nodded and gestured for him to get to the point. Lesaonar began to draw a crude map in the dirt with the tip of the small blade attached to the front of his crossbow.

“All right, well… we’re here right now, where I drew the X.” he marked their location and drew several lines leading away. “This tunnel is the one leading to the mithril mines. That one to the left is unused but stable. We don’t know where it leads, because a crimson worm nested there for quite a long time, and simply ate all the scouts. Funny story, that.”

Lilith cleared her throat. Lesaonar went on.

“The last tunnel is a narrow line leading towards a chasm. We could check it out regardless, and maybe make camp over there, if we want to take a closer look around. There should be a bigger cave, and a means to descend to the bottom… well, without being pushed, I mean.”

Lilith was thinking for a moment while staring at the map scribbled in the dirt in front of her. “So, we have to decide between a probably empty mine, a tunnel that is crimson worm territory, or a chasm filled with who-knows-what? Splendid.”

“Have a little faith, sister dear!” Shar’Nadal inserted “We may find lost treasure somewhere in those tunnels, or a beast that could serve as trophy. Having little benefit is still better than having none.”

Lilith cast a deadpan look at her brother.

“Did you read that sentence in one of those gnomish fortune-cookies you always eat when at the market?”

Shar’Nadal made an offended huff and crossed his arms in front of him.

“Actually these were the words of our late mother. But what do you care, anyway…”

“Our mother was a fool.” Lilith riposted “And got what she deserved.”

Shar’Nadal didn’t answer. His sister swept the map away with her foot before declaring they will take their risks with the tunnel leading to the chasm. Not a minute later everyone was on their feet and marched forward, the scouts blazing their trail in the darkness.

* * *

Old Ronwen dug elbow-deep into the pile of scrolls, trying to find just the one he was looking for when he heard the soft knock on his chamber’s door. He grumbled about his knees and his hurting joints while he got up and slowly went to answer. He was ready to send the intruder to the nine hells for disturbing his solitary experiments, but he changed his mind when he saw Nym awkwardly fiddling with the sleeve of his loose tunic.

“Well, well. What brings you here, _ilharn_?” Ronwen asked indifferently.

“I…uh…” Nym tried to find the words “I am looking for advice.” he gulped and reminded himself that by being the patron of the House, he outranked the old wizard. He straightened his posture and stopped picking at his sleeves. “Yes, I need some advice, and who better to turn to than you, our House’s renown sage?”

Ronwen didn’t seem impressed by the compliment. “Who else? Maybe one of the priestesses. Or the Matron Mother. I have no time for tutoring younglings such as yourself.” He was about to shut the door but Nym stopped him.

“Wait! Please, I need help and only you can provide it. At least hear me out!”

Ronwen sighed. “Very well. Come in, and tell me what trouble is so dire that only I can give you a solution…” he stepped away from the doorway to let Nym in, and the younger drow turned around to see if anyone would see him enter, before rushing forward and slamming the door.

“There.” Ronwen commented “I bet no one heard the noise you made.” he chuckled and snapped his fingers. Two of the chairs made of sturdy mushroom-trunks floated towards them, and stopped next to the two drow. Nym waited until Ronwen seated himself with a painful groan.

“Now speak up, son! I don’t have all day for idle chit-chat.” the old wizard grumbled while rubbing his knees. They were acting up again, and the cold and damp chamber didn’t help it.

Nym sat down and was picking at the hem of his tunic before finally gathering enough courage to ask “How well do you know Matron Drisinil?”

Ronwen rubbed his forehead. “Drisinil is my daughter, but I can’t say I know much of her. I wasn’t permitted to be near her much before her mother died. After that, she took her rightful place on her mother’s throne, and the rest is history.”

Nym processed the older drow’s words before adding “But you were the former patron of the House…” he began but Ronwen’s wave of his hand silenced him.

“Yes, yes. I was. But I grew old and tired, not really suitable for her desires anymore. Then, you came along. I should thank you lad, I really should.”

Nym still had a hard time understanding a few things.

“Ronwen… Why didn’t she…?” he couldn’t force himself to say it. He didn’t need to, for the old drow’s wrinkled face showed a sort of understanding.

“Kill me? I don’t know, lad.” he sighed. “Maybe because I’m the only wizard in the family with enough power to pose a real threat to our enemies? Your guess is just as good as mine.”

Nym nodded and chewed his lower lip.

“How old are you anyway?” Ronwen prodded just to break the silence.

“I’m sixteen.” Nym replied in an instant.

“I was fourteen when my first child was born. I don’t even remember if it was a boy or a girl, or who in the nine hells was Matron Mother then. I was sent to the Academy of Arcane Arts shortly after.” Ronwen chuckled to himself at the memory “That was the happiest day of my life… well, until I arrived and got involved with the throat-cutting and backstabbing there. Good times.”

Nym sighed. “Were there others before you? I mean others Drisinil left alive?”

Ronwen shrugged, immediately regretting it.

“Damn it!” he waved again and a teapot with two chipped cups floated to stop next to them, hovering in the air. The teapot filled the cups with a liquid that had a stingy herbal smell and was pleasantly warm. Ronwen took his own cup, drank from its contents and gestured for Nym to do the same. The younger drow hesitated, but reckoned if the wizard wanted to kill him, he could do it already, so he took the other cup and sipped.

“Now, back to your question…” Ronwen leaned back “No. Before me, she had many others… Soldiers, wizards, servants that she took fancy in… But it always ended the same way for the poor fool: on the altar, or in the ditch.”

Nym swallowed back a sob. He didn’t want to appear weak, but Ronwen noticed his distress.

“You’re afraid that she’s already bored with you.” It was a sentence, not a question. Nym finally gave up and nodded between his tears. Ronwen shook his head in disgust.

“Well, I could say something sugar-coated to you, but I’m a wizard and not a baker.” he slowly emerged from his seat and went to his desk, opened a drawer and returned with its contents. He stopped next to Nym, and took his hand, placing the item he just brought from the desk in the young drow’s palm. “If it comes to the worst… This will be your salvation.”

Nym wiped the tears from his eyes, and took a glance at the object in his hand. It was a letter-knife, slender and sharp, made from one piece of mithril, and adorned with black swirls made of adamantium dust. A single etched garnet sat on the top, forming the larger part of the knife’s shank. As Nym noticed, not a single web or spider pattern could be found on it.

“Listen child…” Ronwen’s raspy voice broke the silence again. “No matter how useful we are, how valuable we are, how humble and obedient we are, they will always get bored with us. Matron Mothers are just like that; it can’t be helped. They love only two things… or rather, three. Their Goddess, their power, and themselves. There is no exception. You are expendable, I am expendable, everyone is expendable if the Spider Queen wishes so. But the Spider Queen can’t claim what she has no power over.”

Nym felt his tears drying and turned his head to look at Ronwen. The old drow had a stern expression when he spoke. “Mark my words, son: You are not the only one living on borrowed time. We all dance on the edge of a blade, and you either learn to love it and play the game, or figure out that the only way to win is to never play at all.”

* * *

Lilith stood proudly at the edge of the chasm, looking over the cave beneath. It was littered with animal and monster bones, had a few oozes on the wall, and something she was eager to have a closer look at: A small cave with a thin line of smoke coming out of it.

“Do you see what I see, Shar’Nadal?” she turned to her brother. “A monster lair, only waiting for us to raid it.”

“I see our impending and gruesome death, but you’re the priestess, you know better…” Shar’Nadal quipped, but he regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. Lilith spun on her heels and smacked him over the head.

“Ow!”

“You’re right. I am the priestess.” Lilith declared coldly “And you would be wise to remember it.”

“How could I forget?” Shar’Nadal rolled his eyes but Lilith turned back to the chasm already.

“We need ropes, and equipment to climb down and send the scouts in.” she mused. “Let’s see what made lair out here!”

After long hours of tedious planning and climbing, the small party of drow sat hidden behind the rubble and stalagmites, trying to spy what was inside the cave. Lilith sent three scouts in, but they were waiting for hours for no sign of any of them. Finally, after they decided to go in and see what fate had befallen the scouts, one of them returned. He was burned and covered with cuts and bite marks. Before he bled out in the dirt, he told the rest of the party that they found a dragon. Lilith was ecstatic. The way she saw it, they just hit jackpot.

“Did you hear it?” she nudged Shar’Nadal. “A dragon! With a big load of treasure! We’re saved!”

“All right, but how do we catch a dragon?” Shar’Nadal pondered. Lilith stared at her brother for a short while, then turned towards the cave, then back to Shar’Nadal, and a twisted little smile appeared on her face.

* * *

“I’m so going to murder the crap out of her on first opportunity.” Shar’Nadal grumbled while he sauntered towards the dragon’s lair on the most obvious route. He would be lying if he’d say he wasn’t afraid. Dragons were creatures of myth, but more importantly creatures of immense power. He skirted a big rock and the carbonated remains of one of the scouts, then he saw a pile of gemstones that rivalled Castle Drisraen in size.

“Oh. My. Lolth.” Shar’Nadal whispered as he sneaked closer to the gems. This indeed could land them the first prize of the annual hunt. Shar’Nadal doubted that any of their aunts could out-loot Lilith and her team if they brought this back. He let the pleasant thought sink in and erase any more caution. He picked up a piece of sapphire as big as his own hand, and then he saw the pair of reptilian eyes focusing on him with burning orange hatred.

The dragon had a bad day. First, three insolent drow broke into its lair, and now another one tried to steal from its hoard, right under its snout. It watched with growing ire as the elf made an awkward grin and put the sapphire back into the pile carefully before turning around and running while screaming something in its primitive language. Probably warning the rest of them pesky drow.

It stood on all four of its legs and let the gemstones and pearls run down on its scales like water droplets before stretching and pursuing the drow. It began to feel a bit peckish as well, now that it thought about it. And elves tasted just marvellous, especially a little roasted. It licked its mouth and began to take a deep breath for igniting the fire it would spit on them.

Lilith heard her brother’s panicked screaming even from her hiding place. “It’s coming! It’s coming!” She was waiting for this moment, praying for the Spider Queen to lend her strength to overcome her enemies. She put aside her whip and drew her sword, stepping out of hiding and gesturing for the rest of the soldiers and scouts to attack as soon as they saw Shar’Nadal running out of the cave, with the dragon in tow.

As Lilith thought – or rather, hoped so – it was a fairly young dragon, barely larger than a riding lizard, but furious and voraciously hungry. It tried to bite Shar’Nadal more than once, but the rogue evaded its jaws. She signalled for the scouts to release the bolts and then the soldiers to run the creature down.

The dragon was getting even more pissed. The pesky thieving drow always jumped, rolled or stepped away from its bites, and now his friends attacked from all directions, as if adding insult to injury. It saw the leader – it had to be, because she was decorated with spiders, and everyone knew drow love that stuff – and she was barking orders to every other of her kind. They came close, and as soon as the crossbow bolts and swords and daggers began to bite, it thought it probably wasn’t the brightest idea to follow the thief out into the open from the security of its lair.

It got ugly. The dragon tore a soldier in half, spraying blood and gore everywhere, burned another three of the scouts, and chomped the arm off of another warrior. Then it turned towards the priestess and roared. Lilith knew a challenge when she saw one. She decided to use her strongest spell, and began to chant. She had no means to tell her soldiers and her brother what is she up to, but she knew that if they had an ounce of common sense, they would get away from the dragon.

As soon as her words faded, a swirling cloud made of magical daggers appeared around the dragon and the rest of Lilith’s party. The dragon’s roar mixed with the drow’s screaming, as the cloud proceeded to turn them into minced meat. Shar’Nadal and a few of the scouts got out of the danger zone quickly and they got away with only a few cuts and gashes, but the warriors had no such luck. There were ten of them when the party left Castle Drisraen. Now only three emerged from the devastating spell’s area of effect. The dragon still roared and tried to take flight, but Lilith concentrated on it, and kept the spell following it. After a few moments of struggle, the dragon fell into the dirt, some of its bright red scales scattering around its carcass. The deadly cloud of daggers tore the delicate skin on its wings to tatters, and it sustained multiple stabs and cuts from the warriors as well. It tried to use its breath weapon on the approaching Lilith one last time, but a sword into its heart quenched the flame in its mouth. Lilith nodded to the soldier with the sword, and snapped her fingers towards the scouts, and sent them into the – now abandoned – lair.

“We did it!” the High-priestess cheered as they approached the dragon’s former napping place. “And look at all these gems!”

Shar’Nadal couldn’t care less about the pile of treasure, he was pretty content with only being alive, but nodded to his sister. He felt tired, scared and angry, but he tried his best to hide it under a blank expression. Lilith’s plan nearly cost him his life, but he knew he could never confront her about it. Just another one of the sad truths of being a drow and not being a priestess.

“And what now?” he inquired after a short pause.

“Well, of course we’ll take the treasure away.” Lilith answered while examining a ruby. “We have enough bags and ropes and the soldiers can take turns in lifting and carrying the cargo.”

“They are our House’s soldiers and scouts, not labour-servants!” Shar’Nadal knew he made a mistake as soon as his words left his mouth. Lilith hit him again, this time it drew blood.

“Did I ask your opinion, _brother?_ ” she spat. “I expect you to do your job, namely what _I tell you_ to do!”

“I’m sorry…” Shar’Nadal hissed through gritted teeth. He wiped the blood from his broken lip. He wasn’t sorry though.

The soldiers, scouts and Shar’Nadal himself worked tirelessly for another six hours until every last piece of gem or pearl or the occasional magic item got transported up to the plateau from where they climbed down, and placed neatly into the carts they brought with them from Castle Drisraen. Yet despite the fat loot, their esteemed leader still wasn’t satisfied.

“Bring me the wyrm!” Lilith ordered her men, and they had to climb down once again. Shar’Nadal felt the skin on his palms become raw from the constant use of crude ropes made of mushroom threads. After the dragon’s carcass was hauled onto the last cart, he let out an exhausted sigh.

* * *

The winner announcement and the celebration afterwards were both anticipated events of the residents of House Drisraen. All three parties arrived at once, and Lilith felt her heart beating in her throat when she saw the giant monster her aunt brought in a cage. Allindra was proud of her catch, for it was rare that any drow could capture and lock a living umber hulk in a cage. Yet she had nothing more to show, so Lilith calmed down a bit. Vimora’s band of adventurers arrived last, and they brought the head of an adult shadow dragon and a big portion of its hoard. Lilith frowned. She felt disappointed. All that work she did for nothing…

As they passed her by, Vimora cast her niece a condescending sneer and marched straight to the Matron Mother’s throne room. Lilith exhaled loudly, and gathered her strength, her loot and her brother, then she followed Allindra’s family members and hirelings to Mother Drisinil’s audience.

“My dear children…” the Matron spoke when everyone and their loot occupied their place in the chamber “I see you all brought me some gifts.”

Vimora snickered as she looked at her sister and her single umber hulk snoring in a cage.

“Let us begin!” Drisinil gestured for her daughters and granddaughter to present what they managed to find.

Vimora went first and presented the shadow dragon’s head, carried by Zathriel and Adriel, her two most formidable warriors.

“This is what remains of the mighty Azzakhgargax, scourge of the plains of Veriol’s Fall.” The two males dropped the dragon head to the floor. It landed with a disgusting wet sound, and some stinking, coagulated blood stained the flagstone under it.

“I am sure the area is much safer now.” Drisinil commented aridly.

“And much cheaper to travel.” Ronwen added from the back row.

“Oh, but that is not all, Matron Mother!” Vimora grinned like the goblin who found the key to the larder “We brought you Azzakhgargax’s treasure!”

“Well, at least what we could carry…” Adriel added sheepishly to his mother’s announcement. Zathriel and some of the warriors brought a chest filled with gold and jewellery and placed it in front of Drisinil’s seat. She nodded and made an impressed sound.

“Well done, Vimora. Well done.”

After the firstborn daughter proudly strutted to her place, Allindra stepped out from the crowd, her sons corralling the umber hulk.

“I present you a rare specimen of Underdark monsters.” The priestess pointed towards the creature which tried to smash the head of its handler. “It is still wild, but I’m sure it can be tamed and used for labour… Or as a trophy.”

Allindra knew that she disappointed her mother, she didn’t even have to say so. What was a mere umber hulk – an untrained and dangerous beast – compared to the wealth and trophy of a dragon? She raised her head and looked Drisinil in the eye.

“And?” the Matron Mother inquired.

“And…?” Allindra asked back.

“This is all you have to give after being out for a tenday? Pathetic.”

Allindra felt the ground opening under her feet and dragging her to the Abyss. Drisinil’s dismissing tone made her cheeks flare with heat, and she crossed her arms in front of her.

“Well… It might be not much, but we haven’t seen what Lilith brought yet!”

Drisinil nodded.

“Ah, yes you are right.” She gestured for Lilith to come forward. “You are the last participant. What manner of goods you brought for your House?”

Lilith’s smile made her face resemble a cat’s right after it ate the mouse. “I brought you Whateverisitsname. A whole red dragon.”

“And the whole dragon’s whole treasure.” Shar’Nadal added, and gestured to the soldiers to bring the chests filled to the brim with gemstones over to Drisinil.

Everyone in the room kept this moment in their memory as long as they lived, for seeing Mother Drisinil with an astonished and impressed face was something that happened once in a lifetime. The soldiers also placed the dead red dragon next to the head of the shadow dragon, and Ronwen sighed irritatedly.

“I think I will have enough work for the rest of the month…”

Ronwen was the one who prepared the trophies for display with his magic and his knowledge of an art-form surface-folk called taxidermy. A whole young red dragon and the head of an adult shadow dragon indeed would take a long time to prepare.

“I now announce the winner of this annual hunt.” Drisinil stood up, ignoring the old wizard’s grumbling. The chamber became so quiet one could hear the giant spiders scuttling about on the ceiling easily.

“Lilith, daughter of Evel’ra.” Every gaze was on the new High-priestess as soon as her name left the Matron Mother’s lips. “You are the one who brought the most treasure, therefore you won the family’s contest.” Mother Drisinil stood up, and slowly clapped her hands together. Her daughters and grandchildren followed her example. She walked over to Lilith, and placed her hand on her forehead.

“The blessing of the Spider Queen is indeed upon you, child.” Drisinil stated “And you brought glory to this House, therefore you are privileged. You shall be granted the quarters in the East wing, a private chapel, and a portion of the treasure you found.”

Everyone gasped.

“The East wing?” Allindra squeaked on a thin voice. “But that is where _my_ family resides…”

Drisinil cast a disapproving look at her.

“Not anymore!”

“What?!” Allindra couldn’t believe her ears.

Drisinil turned towards her, and came closer.

“I declare you an outcast, with all of your kin, Allindra. You are no longer my daughter.”

Allindra covered her mouth with her hand. The twins backed away from both the – now again, sound asleep – umber hulk and their freshly disgraced mother.

“But… Mother Drisinil, please…” Allindra tried to speak, but the Matriarch wasn’t done yet.

“No child born of you shall be treated as my kin. You no longer have the protection of House Drisraen.”

Allindra’s children and other close relatives began to scatter and leave the chamber. She still tried to reason with Drisinil.

“I know I disappointed you, Mother Drisinil. But if you could just give me another chance…”

Drisinil’s features arranged into a bitter smirk.

“Dear Allindra, you know very well that I don’t believe in second chances.”

Allindra did something no priestess of Lolth had ever done, especially in public: she began to cry.

“And even if I would…” Drisinil continued “the Spider Queen wouldn’t be pleased. Such an act would jeopardize our whole House; I can’t afford such a big favour for a loser.”

Allindra sobbed and descended to her knees.

“I beg you! I will do anything, just don’t exile me! Kill me if you must, but don’t send me away!”

Drisinil frowned.

“You’re a priestess, have some dignity!”

Allindra drew long, snotty breaths, trying to calm herself. Drisinil shook her head.

“I will exile you, though you and your kin are forbidden to leave the family estate. You shall move to the servant’s quarters, and share it with the common-born and slaves.”

Allindra stood up and bowed to Drisinil.

“Thank you, Matron Mother. I will never disappoint you again!”

She left the chamber after her sons and servants.

“I bet.” Drisinil deadpanned.

The umber hulk awoke from its magic-induced slumber the minute Allindra vacated the room, and now the only drow standing in front of it was Drisinil. The warriors and priestesses moved in unison to protect her as the huge creature raised its claws to smash her. But there was no need for aid – Drisinil snapped her fingers and the umber hulk froze in place.

“Weapons master!” Drisinil barked and Zathriel drew his greatsword, and nodded to his son, who did the same. The two warriors slashed the monster into pieces in a matter of seconds.

“Ugh, now look at this mess!” Drisinil tutted when the warriors were done. “Ronwen love, have it cleaned up! I shall return to my quarters!” before leaving the chamber, Drisinil turned back at the astonished and terrified gathering of relatives.

“Celebrate, you sour lot! We have a fortune and trophies to make the whole bloody town jealous!”

* * *

Later that day, someone knocked on Drisinil’s door. Thinking it must be Nym, she put her book aside next to the cup of Ronwen’s herbal brew, and pulled her long, wine-coloured nightgown closer, while answering the door. Much to her surprise, it wasn’t her concubine standing in the corridor, but her celebrated granddaughter.

“What brings you here, child?” Drisinil queried, leaning to the doorframe slightly.

“I wish to speak with you in private, Matron Mother.” Lilith answered.

Drisinil stepped aside from the doorway.

“Come on in, then.”

She went back to her seat, and plopped down, finishing her drink before addressing Lilith, who slowly closed the door and occupied a comfy zurkhwood armchair in front of her grandmother.

“Speak your mind, little Lilith!” Drisinil broke the silence “You more than earned your private audience after all.”

Lilith nodded, and leaned a little forward before speaking.

“Mother Drisinil, you didn’t kill the losers.”

“You don’t say!” Drisinil commented aridly.

Lilith didn’t know what to make of her grandmother’s quip.

“But…” she objected “Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to give them punishment for their failure?”

Drisinil sighed and rubbed her temples before putting her ornate teacup down and looking her granddaughter in the eye.

“The Goddess knows, it might be more proper.” she concurred “But if you take advice from an old hag, such as myself: Life is not that easy as the chapel-dwellers might make it look. No offense.”

Lilith grinned.

“None taken. So you say that your sparing of Allindra and her brood wasn’t a decision born from a moment of weakness…”

Drisinil laughed out loud.

“Darling, this whole family is the result of a – how did you say? – moment of weakness.”

She continued to giggle, making Lilith even more confused than she was before.

“Pardon me Matron Mother, but I don’t understand…”

Drisinil waved dismissively.

“You will, when you will be this old. However, to make my point clear: Never mistake an act of calculated mercy as weakness. Maybe your aunt failed me, and let’s admit that she’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she _is_ a High-priestess of Lady Lolth. And she’s quite formidable if it comes to strategy. Killing her would be a waste.”

Lilith nodded.

“I see. Then what about her spouse and children?”

“Do you know anything about Isvyn besides that he’s Allindra’s spouse?” Drisinil queried casually.

“Not much. Not that I care anyway.” Lilith replied.

“I thought so. Another lesson then: Know your House. From the _ilharn_ to the lowliest of common-born servant. You never know what they’re capable of. They can be equally useful assets or dangerous enemies.” Drisinil lectured her granddaughter.

Lilith found herself nodding eagerly, absorbing her grandmother’s words like a sponge.

“To stay with the example, Isvyn is a skilled assassin. He doesn’t look the part, does he?” Drisinil grinned.

Lilith’s eyes grew wide as she recalled her uncle’s small stature and plain looks. If he wouldn’t be known for being Allindra’s mate, she’d mistake him for a servant for sure.

“And what about the twins?” she asked, only out of curiosity.

“Lyrion has a sort of innate spellcasting talent he claims to be granted by some otherworldly entity.” Drisinil replied “And Nes’rar is an Enchanter, learning under Ronwen.” She smiled and leaned back on her seat victoriously. “See? Just because you know nothing about them, they aren’t nothing. Killing Isvyn would cut the House off from a source of underground information and surprise attacks he provided. Killing either one of the twins would reduce the number of magic-users our House has in case of an attack by an outside threat. It would be a waste, and only serve to weaken us.”

It was Lilith’s turn to grin victoriously.

“Yet, we both know that the Spider Queen is displeased.”

Drisinil sighed.

“Isn’t she always? That’s what drives her – and our whole race – to go forward. To be content is to be complacent. But I digress.” she ran her fingers through her long hair. “There will be a ceremony. I wanted to wait a few days, but I will arrange to have it at the end of this tenday.”

Lilith nodded. “A wise choice. But, I didn’t expect anything less of you, Mother Drisinil.”

She rose from her seat and bowed her head to the Matron Mother.

“I shall take my leave. Farewell, and thank you for clarifying a lot of things for me.”

Drisinil also stood up and escorted Lilith to the door.

“You're welcome. I hope one day you will be the Matron Mother this family deserves.”

The compliment made Lilith blush up to the tip of her ears. She quickly curtsied and left before her embarrassment could be noticed by her grandmother. Little did she know someone was eavesdropping on their conversation, and wasn’t pleased to hear what the discussion was about.

* * *

Shar’Nadal barely even blinked when his sister’s whip landed next to him on the table.

“So here you are, Idiot.” Lilith greeted him. “Guess who’s coming with me to help evict dear auntie Allindra and her pathetic brood from our quarters?”

Shar’Nadal glanced up at her from his seat.

“I have a feeling it was a rhetorical question.” he deadpanned “And would you stop calling me names? Why is it for, anyway?”

“You being so reckless nearly cost us our lives, so me calling you Idiot for a tenday is the least you get!” Lilith sneered. Her brother’s face turned sour but he forced to keep a neutral expression on.

“ _You_ were the one using me as bait. _You_ ordered me to go into the dragon’s lair!”

Lilith snickered.

“Because I’d never hope you’d be such a fool to actually do it!”

Shar’Nadal pushed himself up from his seat.

“Well, if you’re done having fun, how about we get over with doing your business? I’m getting pretty tired.”

Lilith shrugged.

“Sure. Follow me!”

Allindra’s descent from being a member of nobility to being a house-servant was the scandal of the year. Lilith revelled in it, grinning madly every time a servant whispered the juicy gossip to another in the corridor, or the kitchen, or when they cast an astonished and terrified glance at her when they cleaned the rooms in the East wing.

She used the expensive and luxurious beds and baths with glee, knowing her aunt would only have an opportunity to clean herself once in every month, using a bucket of cold and dirty water, and some crude soap made from the remains of expended goblins, and will have to sleep on sacks filled with zurkhwood mulch.

She couldn’t stop laughing when she saw Allindra scraping the floor, or her sons cleaning the stables from lizard-dung. Or Isvyn cutting mushrooms in the kitchen, under the watchful eye of the half-orc cook. Lilith had to admit that she was having the time of her life.

* * *

Shar’Nadal on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as pleased with the situation as his sister. A tenday after they moved to Allindra’s quarters, Mother Drisinil ordered the whole House – even servants and commoners – to the chapel. It wasn’t anything like Shar’Nadal feeling pity for his aunt or his cousins – the twins always bullied him when he was younger, and Allindra not-so secretly applauded them for it – he had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

The sudden call to summon the entire population living inside the walls of Castle Drisraen, even the lowest of servants, meant that it was something big and important. Shar’Nadal hated big and important gatherings. That meant someone was about to die. Usually a male family member. And as he looked around in the first few rows of dark elves, they were running out of male family members.

Nym stood beside him, and cast a timid smile at him when he recognized Shar’Nadal, but turned back to the dais and the spider-shaped altar on top of it in the middle, under the vigilant gaze of Lolth’s statue. It was the orthodox depiction of the goddess, a female drow head with flowing hair and eight spider legs protruding from the head’s neck, and it gracefully adorned a niche holding the sacramentals, one dagger made of obsidian, with a spider-shaped ornamental hilt and a small brazier. Seven more of said braziers were lit around the altar, illuminating the chamber with eerie reddish light.

Drisinil lit the last brazier with a spell, and began to chant a prayer. When she was done, she turned to her household. “Let us pray for pleasing our Lady! Let our words soothe her anger! Let our sacrifice bring us her favour! So shall it be!”

“So shall it be!” the gathering repeated. Shar’Nadal found he could barely speak the words for the prayer, and it made his eyes grow wide and his heart skip a beat. Before he could further muse about his strange wave of emotions, he and the ones standing closest to a side-door leading to the chapel heard a commotion.

Soon the door busted open, and Lilith’s form could be seen struggling with something, or rather someone. She managed to drag another drow inside after a few seconds, followed by her cousin and fellow priestess, Milifae. The drow both priestesses attempted to corral up to the altar cursed under his nose, and sometimes hit or pushed back, but as Shar’Nadal observed from the crowd, he looked sickly and thin. After he got hit by Milifae’s whip, he ceased fighting, and when he threw his scarce, long hair away from his face, Shar’Nadal even recognized him: it was Ronwen.

“Oh, look what the bat dragged in.” Zathriel commented behind Shar’Nadal. Possibly for another family member. “I never thought the old fart can put up a fight like this.”

“At least they should cover him up.” Vimora answered her spouse “I will have nightmares from seeing his shrivelled arse. He looks like a raisin.”

Shar’Nadal tried not to listen to the warrior and the priestess’ commentary, and turned his head at the altar. He noticed now that he only wore a pair of trousers, just how thin and brittle Ronwen was. His ribs nearly poked through his skin, and his limbs resembled spider legs, his hands like the tiny creatures crawling everywhere in the caves. Lilith and Milifae escorted – or rather dragged – the old wizard, who yet again squirmed and struggled against their grip.

“Let me go!” his voice was surprisingly strong for someone so frail. “I can walk to my own demise, thank you very much!”

As the wizard marched towards the altar and Matron Drisinil, Nym involuntarily reached out and held Shar’Nadal’s hand. He felt the other male’s light squeeze on his fingers and it helped him to focus his attention elsewhere. Ronwen now lay on top of the effigy of the very Goddess they were about to sacrifice him to, staring at Drisinil’s face defiantly.

“So this is how it ends, Matron Mother?” he queried aridly. “I served my purpose, and now you throw me away like a used tissue…”

“Silence!” Milifae grabbed the old drow’s throat. Ronwen laughed as much as he could in his situation. “Come now child, I will cease to exist in a few minutes, let me at least have a few words with your grandmother, if you please.”

Milifae turned to Drisinil but got no answer. “The sacrifice shall not speak.” she concluded. Ronwen wasn’t pleased.

“I doubt the Spider Queen would mind waiting for a few minutes before she devours my wretched soul. Or puts it in a jar. Or whatever it is that she intends to do with it.”

Both Milifae and the gathering of priestesses gasped at once.

“Blasphemy!”

“Hardly matters from someone already on the altar does it?” Ronwen tried to shrug but his aching shoulders and bound arms made it near-impossible. “Besides, what are you going to do? Kill me again?”

Drisinil stepped closer to Ronwen and gestured for Milifae to move away.

“Be still, father dear.” she reached out and stroke Ronwen’s hair and cheek. “You’re wrong about my intentions.” Ronwen rolled his eyes, but Drisinil either didn’t notice or deliberately ignored it. “I am about to give to the Spider Queen something of importance. Something I love deeply, so she may forgive my transgression of letting the losers live.” her hand stopped above the old male’s heart. “You see, theirs are many lives, but worth much less than your single one. I have to give something of value to gain favours, and sacrificing them would only anger the Goddess further.”

Lilith watched her grandmother and the House wizard converse until something caught her attention. A source of a faint light. She turned towards the crowd of family members, and saw Nym burying his face in Shar’Nadal’s embrace, Vimora angrily staring at the Matron Mother, Allindra and her sons pathetically hovering in the back, but not any one of the drow carrying anything that emitted light. Only the flames in the braziers, and those were nearby. Lilith shook her head and took the sacrificial blade from its sheath, slowly walking towards Drisinil.

Then she saw. Right when she stopped next to Ronwen, she saw an unfamiliar drow female in the front row of the crowd, staring at them with sorrow on her face. Her hair flowed in soft waves down to her ankles and had a silvery sheen, same as her eyes were silver, but unlike Ronwen’s dull metallic grey, hers shone with a divine spark. It was her long dress that emitted that faint glow Lilith noticed. Her trance-like state came to a quick awakening when she heard Drisinil’s voice.

“The dagger!”

Lilith turned her head to her grandmother, and clumsily gave her the blade with the spider-shaped hilt. She immediately turned back and searched the crowd for the mysterious woman, but she was gone the moment the sacrificial dagger tore into Ronwen’s flesh and turned his bitter remarks into pained screaming.

Nym couldn’t force himself to watch as the blade repeatedly struck the struggling old drow’s chest, until finally breaking through his sternum. Drisinil cut Ronwen open, but the wizard still lived. She reached inside his chest cavity and grabbed his heart, feeling it flutter against her palm before tearing it out and holding it high. The heart was beating for a moment, spraying blood everywhere before it finally stopped. The lights turned a different shade of red, and a foul smell lingered in the air. Then before everything going black, the gathered dark elves saw a figure emerging from the ground behind Drisinil. It was a grotesque, semi-liquid creature with many tentacles and one red eye in its centre. It reached for the heart, tore it out from Drisinil’s clutch and disappeared as quickly as it came. The fires were out. The slow dripping of blood from the altar was the only sound.

* * *

Shar’Nadal was grateful for the distraction because no one could see his face and the horror etched into it, same as it was clear to see on Nym’s as well. He felt a faint touch on his arm, and looked down at Nym. The other drow was signing to him _“I feel ill.”_ He squeezed Nym’s arm, and signed back _“Hold on. Let’s wait until they clear out, and I’ll take you to your quarters.”_ Nym nodded and tried very badly to hide that he was crying. Shar’Nadal was close to it himself, but he had much stronger nerves.

But even those nerves began to give up when he heard Vimora saying “Finally that conceited old shit is dead.” she inhaled loudly “Even the air seems to be clearer now, don’t you think?” Milifae answered something to her mother Shar’Nadal wasn’t interested in hearing, so he pulled Nym closer, trying to calm him down by stroking his back under his cloak.

“And what is this?” Vimora’s voice came from much closer, then Shar’Nadal saw her standing in front of them. “Coddling the crybaby are you, Shar’Nadal?”

He didn’t answer, but it wasn’t necessary, Vimora’s question was rhetoric. She tutted and pointed a finger at Nym. “The weak should be either ran through with a blade or exploited. They aren’t good for much else. Are you one of the weak ones, hm?”

Shar’Nadal swallowed a knot in his throat. Vimora stopped staring at him and burst out in a laughter that made no doubts about her mental condition.

“I’m sorry boys, I digress. You’re both young. You have time to learn your place and the ways of our people. I bet it was your first sacrifice isn’t it, _ilharn_?”

Nym nodded, for he was still unable to speak. Vimora clapped his shoulder and left, much to both males’ relief.

Shar’Nadal escorted Nym back to his chambers as he promised, and decided to stay as long as the younger drow required. Nym didn’t say a word, but he was clinging to Shar’Nadal’s arm like his life depended on it. When the door shut behind them, Nym rushed to the lavatory and threw up. Shar’Nadal went after him and swept his hair away from his face, and helped him stand. Nym was still shaking, and endured while his face and hair was cleaned with some cold water.

“Hush now. It’s over.” Shar’Nadal caressed the younger drow’s back as Nym curled up in a ball on the floor next to his bed. After a while, Nym stopped crying and sniffling, and sat. Shar’Nadal nudged him. “Better?”

Nym shook his head but stood up, and took a few shaky steps to his nightstand, and pulled the drawer. He returned with a pretty knife Shar’Nadal found oddly familiar.

“Didn’t it belong to Ronwen?” he asked, but regretted it. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer.”

Nym sat down next to Shar’Nadal, staring at the blade.

“No, it’s all right. Indeed, I got this as a gift from Ronwen. But now he’s no more…” His voice trailed off but Nym forced himself to calm down. “You know, he told me something on the day he gave this knife to me. Something that echoed in my mind all the time ever since.”

Shar’Nadal raised his brow. “What was it?” he reached out and brushed Nym’s hair away from his face. He was just a child, and the realization of it hit Shar’Nadal again, with greater force than before. Yet this child was playing with a knife, and recovering from witnessing the cold-blooded murder of someone – maybe the only person – he became close to, ever since he set foot in the family estate.

“The only way to win is to not play the game.” Nym answered. Shar’Nadal exhaled loudly and buried his face in his palms. There was something profound in a drow this young talking about quitting the game of life.

“You can’t possibly…” he began, but then he remembered Ronwen’s fate. Seemed like Nym was thinking about the same thing.

“I don’t want to end up like that.” he confessed.

“Me neither.” Shar’Nadal concurred. “But you don’t have to end your life because of that.”

Nym smiled at him sorrowfully.

“Tell me then, what should I do? Wait until it’s my turn on the altar, or until either Mother Drisinil or one of the other priestesses cut my throat because I looked at them the wrong way?”

Shar’Nadal couldn’t really believe his own words when he said them, but he tried to stop Nym from killing himself.

“You know; I don’t think Mother Drisinil wants to kill you. She likes you.”

Nym laughed disbelievingly.

“Maybe. Maybe she already chose the poor fool she’ll drag to her bed even before my corpse gone cold.”

“Still, you don’t have to die.” Shar’Nadal pleaded “You could run away, I will help!”

Nym turned to him and his expression was darker than before.

“Run away? To where?” he shook his head, and put the knife down. “Anyway… Why do you even care?”

Shar’Nadal wrapped his arms around Nym.

“I don’t know. I just… do. Something must be wrong with me, but I don’t want you to die.”

Nym slowly shook his head.

“Why?”

Shar’Nadal didn’t know the answer. He barely knew Nym, but deep inside something told him that letting him act on his suicidal thoughts would be wrong.

“Please don’t do it.” he begged “Let me find a way for us to escape, and I will help you.”

Sadly, despite his age, Nym knew very well how much he could rely on the words of other drow. He chuckled softly, dejectedly into Shar’Nadal’s ear, and freed himself from the embrace.

“You know… It’s been nice. To be with someone who pretends to care for me. But now it’s my turn to plead for you to not do it.”

Shar’Nadal backed away with confusion written on his features.

“Pretending?” he questioned

“I am aware of how pathetic and weak I must look.” Nym replied “And I know that our people abhor such things.”

Shar’Nadal crossed his arms in front of him.

“I’m not like other drow. I don’t think you’re weak or pathetic.”

“Then what do you think?” Nym queried “Or rather, what do you want from me? You said you want to help me, but I know such things never come free.”

“It won’t be free; don’t you think that.” Shar’Nadal finally had a plan. “I help you escape, but you have to stay alive until I find out how.”

Nym sighed.

“I shall await your return then.”

Shar’Nadal took it as a cue to leave Nym alone, so he gave him one last squeeze then walked out of his chambers. Now he just needed to find out how to escape to the Underdark with him.

* * *

It was harder than he thought. Lilith was always at his heel, ever since she got wind of his “problematic” behaviour after the sacrifice from their aunt.

“Why are you like this?” She screamed while pushing Shar’Nadal to the wall and almost hitting him. “Why do you have to always act suspicious? We just got back to the Goddess’ favour, and you would go and ruin it like an idiot!”

“Forgive me…” Shar’Nadal muttered. Lilith let go of him, but not before giving him a final shove, making him nearly fall over. As he looked up at her from his hunched position, Lilith saw the spark of defiance in her brother’s crystal blue eyes.

“If you dare to stand up I’ll beat you.” she threatened. “Learn your place for fuck’s sake, before it’s too late for both of us!”

“If you lay a finger on me…” Shar’Nadal’s usually cheery voice bore a coldness that rivalled the winds of Icewind Dale “I will kill you, and run away.”

Lilith stopped mid-motion from setting her whip against her brother’s back. Not because of the threat – she didn’t think Shar’Nadal was capable of even getting out of the castle all by himself – but the complete lack of fear in his voice.

“Shall I remind you that without me, you are nothing?” she sneered. “If I perish, you’ll be sold to the highest bidder like the cattle you are!”

Seeing Shar’Nadal’s expression contorting into a vengeful snarl added oil to her fire. “That’s right. We aren’t _darthiir_ or humans, or whatnot! This isn’t the world of surface-dwelling folks! It’s about damn time you finally get a reminder of it!”

Shar’Nadal backed away until another wall hit his back and stared at his sister defiantly. “I told you. Hit me, and I kill you.”

She hit him. Again and again, she let the snakes magically grafted to a piece of adamantine bite him. Their venom burned his veins and made his muscles cramp. He tried to fight back, only to have his hand bitten and grow numb, dropping his knife. He managed to kick Lilith in the shin, but he only got another blow in response. When he began to lose consciousness, Lilith stopped and threw the snake-whip away. She flipped the table and threw a fragile piece of glasswork to the wall behind Shar’Nadal before stopping and dragging him to his feet.

“Never again!” she hissed “I swear to the Goddess, if I hear that you have been acting weirdly or as much as look at someone the wrong way, I will arrange with Mother Drisinil that you shall be gifted to one of our allies.”

Shar’Nadal kept on staring at the mess Lilith made and refused to acknowledge her words.

“Did you hear me?” she shook him.

“I did,” he pressed out.

Lilith nodded and let him go. He glared daggers at her, and barely kept himself from throwing something expensive and fragile at her when she turned back from the doorway to say

“Smile! No girl will want you if your face is sour like spoiled milk!”

Shar’Nadal threw the remains of the gnomish glasswork at the door after it closed behind Lilith.

* * *

From that day on, Shar’Nadal became reserved. He kept to himself, mostly stayed in his quarters, and had a growing sensation of distress. He thought of Nym often. The possible reason for why they barely ever saw the patron of the House. As he sat in the corner among the potted glowing moss, he heard a soft knock on the door. Lilith stood in the corridor.

“Come with me!” she ordered. “Mother Drisinil wanted to see her concubine, but that good for nothing male has disappeared. You were the last one who saw him. Help us find the brat and let Mother Drisinil have him for what I care…”

Shar’Nadal followed his sister without a sound. They hadn't spoken since she “reminded him” of his lot in life. And the rogue didn’t plan to change it in the near future. The duo met the rest of the family’s priestesses, and Shar’Nadal heard them talking about even the warriors and guards were looking for Nym as well. He found a small spark of hope growing inside him. Maybe Nym ran away somehow?

Sadly, after going through the whole castle, Lilith mentioned that they left Nym’s own quarters out, thinking he wouldn't be there in the first place. The search party then opened the door and set foot into the small domain of their House’s patron.

There they found Nym, dead for probably a few days. His eyes were half-closed, as in reverie, a peaceful smile on his ashen-grey face. He still held the ornate letter-knife he got from Ronwen and used to end his life with. Shar’Nadal tried to turn away from the sight, but he couldn’t. While he was frozen in place, staring at Nym’s material remains, he heard the priestesses tearing the room apart.

“Are you awake?” Lilith nudged her brother. Shar’Nadal turned his head towards her but turned back to Nym.

“He’s gone…” he whispered. Lilith showed a rare display of compassion and patted her brother on the back.

“I found something!” Milifae alerted her mother and her cousins. “It’s a note.”

“And it’s for you!” Vimora shoved the small piece of paper into Shar’Nadal’s hand. “What is it I wonder? A last will and testament? A list of people he disappointed?” She leaned closer with a devilish grin “Or maybe it’s a love letter!”

Shar’Nadal wanted to step away from her when all of them heard the Matron Mother shouting.

“Enough!”

Vimora backed away so quickly it seemed as if Shar’Nadal’s proximity burned her. Milifae and Lilith exchanged looks.

“Boy, come with me!” Drisinil ordered and Shar’Nadal cast one last glance at Nym’s body then followed.

“Clean up this mess!” The Matron Mother barked “And get the ceremony-master!”

* * *

The longer Shar’Nadal watched his grandmother, the clearer it became to him that she was upset. She led him to her chambers, and sat down on a comfortable-looking, eight-legged sofa and gestured for him to sit as well.

“Did you read that note?” she asked when Shar’Nadal nestled himself among the cushions.

“Not yet, Matron Mother…” he began but Drisinil turned to him and placed her perfectly manicured and jewelled hand on his knee.

“Then read it for me, child.”

Shar’Nadal was sure Nym wouldn’t approve of it, but disobeying the Matron Mother meant certain death, and he wasn’t yet ready to follow the patron’s footsteps into oblivion. He nodded, and began to read with a heavy feeling in his chest.

_“For Shar’Nadal_

_Before I go, I wish to thank you. I know it was foolish of me, but for a short while, I felt like there is someone who understands. But in this vein of thought, I can’t drag you down with me._

_I brought shame to my family, and yours as well by our people’s standards. But let me be honest in the final moments of my life: I couldn’t give a dead goblin’s ass for our people’s standards and traditions._

_I always knew that something is inherently wrong with me. I always felt it unfair and unjustified that only for the sin of not being female, I have to be punished by the Goddess and her followers. I said after Ronwen’s death that I am ill. I always was._

_Every time my mother decided something for me, I felt ill. Every time my sisters played a game of accusing me of something and punishing me for nothing, I felt ill. I know I should be putting the blame on some distant enemy of our kin, but it wasn’t a distant enemy that robbed me of my personhood and sold me like cattle. It was my own mother. It wasn’t a fairy-tale monster from a distant land that treated me like a pet. It wasn’t an imaginary surface-dwelling foe._

_And I’m sick of it all. Sick of the lies, the silence that is forced on me, the beatings, the way I have to question my own sanity, the disgust I feel when they touch me, when they make unwanted comments on my body like it was goods for sale._

_I’m sick of decisions are made for me without concern of my will._

_I’m sick of being weak._

_I’m sick of living like this._

_So for once in my lifetime, I am finally free to decide something for myself._

_Farewell, Shar’Nadal. Be strong._

_Let your heart grow a shell of iron, for if it not, they will carve it out of your chest and eat it raw._

_Nym”_

After he was done, Shar’Nadal put the letter down and looked up to Drisinil. The Matron Mother’s face reflected sorrow mixed with a small portion of anger. She ran her fingers through her long platinum curls and sighed.

“Foolish, foolish male.”

Shar’Nadal heard more emotion from his grandmother in this short sentence than he ever had the chance before. Drisinil turned to her grandson and sniffled before gathering her composure.

“Never follow his footsteps, child!” Her voice carried the usual tone of threat, but this time it was rather soft. “It may seem like a heroic deed, and escape for you, but believe me, his soul will suffer for eternity for this transgression.”

Shar’Nadal stared back at the letter with an empty heart. Nym was free of the burdens of his life at last. And he doubted that he was still suffering.

“Only the Goddess has the right to decide who lives and dies. By taking his own life, he violated that right.” Drisinil explained on a low voice. “I would never want such a terrible fate for him.”

Shar’Nadal sighed and turned to his grandmother.

“What now?”

Drisinil forgave the transgression of speaking without being spoken to, and stood up, gesturing for Shar’Nadal to follow.

“What else? We lost a member of our family, my dear boy. We will hold his funeral.”

* * *

The ceremony-master washed and dressed Nym’s body into his best attire, as Mother Drisinil ordered. He was put on display in the chapel - but not on the altar – while his sarcophagus was being finished in the family crypt. Much to the remaining priestesses and House wizards’ dismay, Drisinil ordered them to cast spells on Nym that slowed or stopped decay. None seemed to understand what's the big deal about a dead _ilharn_. Shar’Nadal had a suspicion about its cause, but dared not hope so. It appeared to him that Mother Drisinil indeed held Nym in some higher sort of value. Not love of course, but she positively seemed like a person who lost a favourite pet, or one who has been robbed of their family heirloom.

The Matriarch of the House became distant, even more so than before. Many servants and family members found her in the chapel next to Nym, or after his burial ceremony, in the crypt. After a long month, Shar’Nadal finally dared to call the phenomenon on its name: Drisinil was mourning. And it was shocking news for the whole household.

“What does it mean?” Lilith mused about her grandmother’s unusual behaviour. Shar’Nadal still wasn’t talking to her, so he just shrugged.

“Why does she spend hours in the crypt next to Nym’s grave in silence?” came Lilith’s next question, and Shar’Nadal found he no longer wanted to remain quiet either.

“Maybe because Mother Drisinil didn’t want him to die so soon.” he quipped. “She’s jealous of Nym for getting it done prematurely.”

“Why so glum?” Lilith poked his ribs. Shar’Nadal backed away from her.

“I have every reason to be glum, so leave me alone to do it properly!” he riposted.

“Still mad at me for that lesson?” Lilith inquired, hitting the sore spot as her brother’s sour expression indicated.

“Why would I be?” Shar’Nadal replied with another question sarcastically “Who wouldn’t love to have his body peppered with puncture marks from snake fangs and bruises all over?”

Lilith didn’t answer, so Shar’Nadal turned away from her. He saw Mother Drisinil leaving the crypt, and another form coming after her.

“So…” Lilith began while peeking out the window next to her brother “Just what in the nine hells is aunt Vimora doing, creeping after Mother Drisinil like that?”

Shar’Nadal forgot his anger in an instant.

“That is a good question. How about we find out?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugly layout is ugly. 
> 
> Disclaimer: No umber hulks were harmed during the making of this fic.
> 
> I'm sorry Ronwen... I promise you won't end up being Lolth's snack in a jar in the afterlife. 
> 
> Also sorry about Nym. I hope nobody in your life - or you for that matter - is in a similar situation, and please remember, that we aren't drow. You can ask for professional help. There are people who'd miss you, even if you don't feel like it, and nothing is ever that bad that it couldn't be fixed somehow! Throwing your life away should never be an option! 
> 
> Notes for whom it may concern:
> 
> \- I know, I know. That spell doesn't really sound like officially approved FR material. I remembered my game session where Lilith's player indeed used a spell with similar effect, but I just can't for the life of me remember its name or if it was official material or some unofficial fodder for Munchkins. But I used it because it sounds cool, and I'm fairly aware that it probably couldn't deal enough damage to kill a juvenile red dragon instantly, but let me have a little artistic license here, okay? We don't want pages long fight-scenes (I know I don't), and it was a means to end it before it gets as boring and tedious as this note.
> 
> \- And about the dragon: I just couldn't decide if it's a she or a he, so I chose it to be neither. Or both. I leave it up to you. ;) 
> 
> \- I may or may not used a religious term incorrectly. Apologies, but I couldn't find the correct word. Let's pretend that in the context of the Church of Lolth, it is the correct term, shall we? 
> 
> \- And last but not least, a friendly reminder that 1.: The "unlikable heroine" tag is there for a reason, and 2.: Lilith will not stay this awful through the whole story, she'll change eventually, but gradually, and not from one chapter to the other. It might take the whole fic, so please bear with me, and keep in mind that she is at the beginning of her journey. She'll regret a lot of the things she did in this chapter, and even ones she will do in the later ones. 
> 
> Again, thank you for reading and for the feedback, it means a lot!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emboldened by the annual hunt's success - and thanks to a little gossip - Lilith and Shar'Nadal decides to assemble an expedition to the surface. Meet the Army of the Red Dragon and their leader, Rezz'nar the Kinslayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back again! 
> 
> Our warnings for today are: Mentions of child abuse, minor character injury, mentions of animal abuse, use of a turn-of-phrase mentioning slavery, mentions of mass murder, alcoholism.
> 
> Really, if you're still here for the 3rd chapter, I doubt you're surprised by any of this. :)
> 
> Update: Revised some wonky phrasing and misused tense. "The "Let's hit home" stayed, because it's just Shar'Nadal not giving a damn about etiquette and using low-born language just to annoy everyone. )

Tendays passed since Nym’s funeral, yet he was always on Shar’Nadal’s mind. After they found Vimora sneaking around after the Matron Mother, the _ilharn_ became a resident ghost in the young rogue’s thoughts. Mother Drisinil fell into a strange melancholy, and no matter how obvious its cause was to Shar’Nadal, no one else seemed to recognize it for what it was. Shar’Nadal always had doubts about the vileness of his grandmother, despite the sacrifices and her iron-fisted rule. She always kept the household as a whole in her mind, and went to great lengths to know every banal detail about her subjects. There was a multitude of questions Shar’Nadal wanted to ask of Mother Drisinil, yet he knew most of them would only earn him another ornate sarcophagus in the family crypt.

He let out a resigned sigh, and turned his attention back to his surroundings. He wandered around – as usual – Zeberra’s great marketplace, and was aiming towards the tavern, but he saw something that grabbed his attention and glued him to the pavement. A pair of drow males – of common-born, as the lack of jewellery and the way they wore their hair indicated it – in full plate armour marched towards Shar’Nadal’s location. Both had the image of a fire-breathing red dragon etched and painted onto the adamantine, and the pauldrons on the dragon’s side of the armour was also painted red. As they passed Shar’Nadal he noticed two things: the dragon motif continued to the armour’s backplate, and the two warriors were chatting about selling goods from the surface. Both the unusual armour design and the mentions of the surface world intrigued Shar’Nadal, so he followed the pair into _The Peacock Spider._

The tavern was busy despite the early hours, there were merchants and mercenaries drinking, gambling or just going about their business everywhere. Shar’Nadal passed through the crowd and ended up at the bar, ordering a pint of his favourite drink called _“the drider’s spite”_ , while he kept on looking for the pair of warriors in unusually marked armour. He found them, closer than he expected. They sat nearby at a table, negotiating with a duergar about some foodstuff they gathered during a raid or something like that. Shar’Nadal wasn’t interested in the goods, but as he listened on, the surface world itself became fascinating to him. He heard the stories about the treacherous _darthiir_ – surface dwelling elves, distant cousins of the drow, who exiled them and their Goddess underground – and the short-lived humans, and dumb orcs and greedy dwarves from his sister and various other sources, and he knew them by heart. He was always curious about these allegedly inferior empires and people. Somehow he doubted that any kind of empire that could last just as long as the ones in the Underdark was inferior.

He wanted to see these lands with his own eyes, witness the true measure of its people and its empires, instead of blindly believing every child’s tale he’s been told while growing up. It was a rare thing as he learned. Most drow believed what they’ve heard from the minute they were old enough to understand. Most of them never bothered to think about it. To doubt was to be accused of heresy and end up on an altar. He stole a glance at the drow mercenary sitting closer to him. The other male had waist-length, straight hair without braids or any form of restraining ornament, slightly bigger red eyes, squinting at the duergar suspiciously from under a thin line of eyebrows and a scar running across his forehead to his chin, cutting through his nose-bridge. It was an old injury, already healed into a silvery-line across the drow’s skin. Shar’Nadal wondered if he got it in a battle or in a debate with another of his group. This male with the scarred face had a sign on his armour the other one didn’t. Shar’Nadal pegged him to be an officer then. He paid for his drink, and decided to leave before the mercenaries noticed him eavesdropping, and his sister began to look for him.

On the way back, he stopped next to a mushroom grove and sat atop one of the giant toadstools, musing about his life and his options while his riding-lizard noshed on the smaller mushrooms nearby.

“Should we run away, Sargtlin?” he asked the lizard, which stopped next to the drow’s spot and plopped its head into Shar’Nadal’s lap.

“I know I don’t want to spend my life in a gilded cage, only to end up on an altar or in a ditch somewhere.” the rogue kept on musing while he scratched the lizard’s scales on its head “I'm worth so much more than that.”

Sargtlin didn’t answer – not that the lizard could add anything to the drow’s lament – but began to fall asleep and Shar’Nadal knew if the animal decides it will sleep, not even Lolth herself can wake it from its slumber.

“All right, time to go home then.” Shar’Nadal sighed and pulled Sargtlin along until the lizard was sober enough for him to hop back into the saddle.

* * *

Meanwhile in the chapel, Lilith crawled on the floor along with her aunts and grandmother, begging for their Goddess’ favour and the demise and defeat of their enemies. She sat on her knees and straightened her back, stretching her arms out above her head in prayer before bowing down again. She felt a weird sensation, like watching herself from the outside and slightly from above. After she blinked it was over. Lilith took a deep breath – which she regretted because she felt the reason for her distress might have something to do with the scented smoke coming from the braziers – and tried to re-focus on the chanting.

A few minutes later another unusual thing happened: She saw an outsider standing among them. The same unfamiliar woman from before. In a glowing dress. With a sour expression. Lilith blinked and even shook her head but the mysterious drow lady still stood in front of her.

“It’s no use.” she uttered without even opening her mouth. “She won’t listen.”

Lilith was about to ask what in the nine hells was that supposed to mean, but she remembered where she was, and that she wasn’t alone, so she only stared at the mysterious female with a furrowed brow.

“She only listens when it’s convenient for her. Not when you need her.” the lady in the glowing dress stated without speaking before she disappeared as quick as she came. Lilith touched her forehead and the chamber turned around her once, twice, while the floor came closer as she collapsed. Good thing she was already sitting on the ground.

She woke up to the distant voices of her grandmother and aunts calling her name, while her cousin shook her and slapped her cheek.

“I’m up…” she mumbled.

“What in the Underdark came over you, girl?” Drisinil queried on an irritated tone.

“I think I saw a vision…” Lilith confessed.

“A vision, you say.” The Matron Mother was sceptic. “What was it about?”

Lilith dared not to tell.

“I saw a woman… In a long dress. She was watching over us.”

The priestesses exchanged a look. Vimora shrugged, Allindra stared at Lilith disbelievingly, Milifae stared at her grandmother, while Drisinil examined Lilith’s face for the faintest sign of deception.

“Maybe we were blessed after all.” the Matron Mother concluded. “If the Goddess sent one of her handmaidens to watch over our prayers, it might mean that she’s pleased. For the moment.”

Lilith nodded as much as she could while lying on the floor. Milifae helped her up.

“All hail the Spider Queen!” Lilith yelled as soon as she was upright. Her relatives repeated her words. She tried her best to hide the fear on her features, and the fact that the mysterious lady in a glowing dress was still among them.

* * *

Shar’Nadal sneaked through the corridor leading to his quarters when his sister caught him.

“There you are!” Lilith was coming back from the ceremony in the chapel, and was pretty shaken. From what, Shar’Nadal could not tell.

“I, uh… Yea I just came back from you know what, to see what we can do about you know who. That.”

Lilith stared at her brother in confusion.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not yet.” came the answer.

“Please tell me you have something useful to say!” Lilith rubbed her forehead and already began to feel the brewing migraine inside her skull.

“Actually I do.” Shar’Nadal grinned. “But how about we talk inside my room, and not out here where everyone and their goblin can hear us?”

Lilith nodded.

“Very well. Lead on!”

After the sturdy door of Shar’Nadal’s chambers closed behind them, Lilith plopped down on one of the big cushions littering the floor.

“So? What did you hear?”

Shar’Nadal sat atop his desk and crossed his legs.

“I found a way to make our dear aunts even more jealous and our Matron Mother so proud she’ll burst into pieces.”

Lilith sighed.

“I have no patience for your games right now.”

“Party pooper.” Shar’Nadal pouted “But you know, I feel generous today: I heard about a group of drow who ventured to the – drumroll please – surface! And they also have shinies and foodstuff you can only dream of buying if you aren’t a member of the ruling eight.”

Despite her brother’s inane way of description, Lilith became interested.

“The surface you say? And rare and expensive goods? Hmm…” she rested her chin on her hand in thinking. “That indeed might be something worth looking into.”

Shar’Nadal’s features reflected honest surprise as he listened to his sister.

“You mean…”

“Yes, I mean why not?” Lilith smiled and shrugged. “I will ask Mother Drisinil’s permission, and if she allows it, we’ll seek out these adventurous drow of yours.”

Shar’Nadal punched the air with a happy laugh.

“Don’t get your hopes up!” Lilith scolded him. “If the Matron Mother says no, we’ll not go.”

“Nah, she’ll never let an opportunity to increase the House’s wealth and reputation slip.” Shar’Nadal was optimistic. As always. “I think she’ll send us on our merry way sooner than you can finish a sentence.”

Lilith chuckled.

“We’ll see.”

She stayed with her brother that day, long after he fell asleep in the comfy nest of cushions and fabrics he used as a bed. Lilith mused about the last time they had slept next to each other. Shar’Nadal just turned five years old and he learned how to levitate using his House insignia. He used the opportunity to float up to the next floor and disappear for the remainder of the day. Lilith searched after him for hours and hours, until she found him hiding under the barge of Mother Drisinil’s dress. The Matron Mother found it funny, and shrugged it off as Shar’Nadal being a child, but their mother thought differently. Lilith was tasked with punishing her brother for this grave transgression. She let him sleep next to her afterwards because she felt guilty.

Lilith sighed as she was looking at her hands. The same hands that dealt so much pain and revelled in it now gently stroke the foolishly sleeping drow’s snowy hair out of his face, while Lilith lay down next to him. After all these years they spent together, she found the thought of someone else hurting her brother to be unacceptable. She hoped somewhere deep inside, that he’ll never end up being someone’s favoured concubine. Yet she knew if Mother Drisinil wanted to marry him off to another noble, she’ll have no say in it. She knew her brother well, and knew Shar’Nadal wouldn't last long in another family, or out on his own. And she knew her concern for him is a weakness she should get rid of, yet found herself to be unable to. She felt her expression go sour and her strokes falter. Shar’Nadal didn’t notice, he was still sound asleep. Lilith kissed his forehead, and disentangled her fingers from his hair. No matter what, she was determined to save him from any fate worse than death.

* * *

Shar’Nadal was dreaming of running through an unknown part of the Underdark, disembodied voices of an unknown enemy chasing him. He had no weapons, not even his trusty knife he always kept on his person, and he was barefoot. The small stones and pebbles pierced through his skin and his feet were bleeding, leaving bright red footprints all over. He ran and ran until he ended up falling to a seemingly endless abyss. He thought he will die, but when he finally landed, he didn’t feel any broken bones or distress. He sat and looked around. The scenery was alien to him, colourful and lush with mosses glowing in cheerful lights, flowers and ivy leaves blooming and running up the walls around a small waterfall. As he stood and walked around in wonder, he saw the ceiling of this strange cave was littered with tiny glowing spots, and a big one shining down on him.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” He heard an unfamiliar female voice. He turned around and saw its owner, a striking dark elf woman in a long dress that seemed to glow with the same silvery light than the big orb above.

“What is this place?” Shar’Nadal whispered.

“It is my domain.” came the answer. “I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s wonderful!” the rogue exclaimed “I never saw anything like it before!”

The mysterious lady chuckled.

“Never lose that enthusiasm, child.”

She watched on patiently as Shar’Nadal explored every little inch of the “garden” – as he named the place to himself – marvelling at the unusual flowers and insects. He forgot about his hurting feet. But as soon as he stepped on a pebble, he was reminded of them by falling over and cursing under his breath.

The mysterious lady came to him, and touched his feet. At first, Shar’Nadal expected something painful, but he only felt a slight itch as his wounds closed in the wake of the lady’s touch.

“That should do it.” She smiled at him and stood.

Shar’Nadal tried to stand and did some jumps to be sure about his injuries being gone. A big grin appeared on his face as he looked at the woman in a glowing dress.

“Thank you!”

The lady surprised him by pulling him into an embrace. Her scent filled his nose and made him slightly dizzy with something he couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t lust or desire, but a mix of safety and calm.

“You are strong and worthy, Shar’Nadal of House Drisraen.” the lady whispered in his ear. “Never let them tell you otherwise.”

He woke up staring at his sister’s half-closed eyes. She fell into reverie by his side. Shar’Nadal was ashamed of letting his guard down so much that he fell asleep like orcs and humans do. Something else added to his sense of melancholy and distress, namely that he found the grey walls of his room around him instead of the beautiful garden of his dream.

* * *

Lilith couldn’t wait until they finally arrive to the marketplace. After Mother Drisinil allowed them to ask around about these alleged rare goods and their sellers, they departed. She followed Shar’Nadal’s lead ever since, and she found looking at Sargtlin’s tail is quite boring. Her own riding lizard had a bad habit of biting everyone and everything that came near her, so Lilith chose a floating disk as her means of travel for now, and it was slow. Mind-rottingly slow, at least the priestess thought so.

She amused herself with predictions of what they would find, and it was usually a joke at Shar’Nadal’s expense. Lilith rarely ventured out to the city, and she hated that she had to. Crowds were ideal for thieves and assassins to blend in, and despite being adept at crawling through shadows and fighting dirty himself, Lilith didn’t trust Shar’Nadal to protect both of them if things went down the wrong way.

She tapped her fingers on her vambraces and frowned as they passed more and more dwellings of commoner drow and other folks the drow used as cheap labour forces. These people scuttled from their way but kept on gawking at them, much to Lilith’s chagrin. What were they staring at anyway? Have they never saw something as majestic as a High-Priestess? She sighed and reminded herself that probably no, they haven’t. Even the two of them were a sight to behold for the common-folk. Lilith in her flowy dress and clerical regalia complete with a spider-headdress, and Shar’Nadal in his leather and chain armour, his lizard’s saddle and reins adorned with mithril ornaments and the banner of their House. They really stood out in the crowd, Lilith had to admit.

Even the hagglers stopped their loud exchange as they passed through the stalls and businesses, and when they finally reached the entrance to the _Peacock Spider,_ a smaller crowd gathered behind them to follow. Shar’Nadal got down from the saddle and led Sargtlin to the stables to munch on some mushroom and various suspicious material in the trough then went back to help Lilith off from her disk. She descended gracefully, and no one ever noticed her legs were numb from sitting cross-legged for hours.

“So, this is the place?” She inquired with forced indifference. Actually she was quite curious. Shar’Nadal spent a lot of time here, so Lilith wanted to know what was so fascinating in a mere tavern.

They entered and even the usual murmur stopped. Lilith cast a wrathful glance at anyone who dared to look at her. Shar’Nadal went straight to the bar, and the bartender flashed a smile at him, which disappeared as quickly as the puddles in summer.

“How can I be of service?” the old drow bowed down before Lilith.

“We are looking for someone.” Shar’Nadal answered in his sister’s stead. “A tall fellow, long hair, funny armour, and a scar.”

The bartender shook his head.

“I’m sorry milord, I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Lilith was about to scoff and tell her brother some nasty things when a male voice next to her asked:

“Are you by any chance looking for someone of the Red Dragons?”

Shar’Nadal turned to see who was speaking.

“Yes, a tall bloke with a scarred face, you know him?” he queried.

“That might be captain Kazzaren.” came the answer.

“Yep, that’s the one!” Shar’Nadal nodded. He forgot to mention the little detail of never asking the names of the two warriors from before. The stranger chuckled and stretched before standing up. He was a head taller than Shar’Nadal, nearing six feet and wore full plate armour and a red cloak.

“Well lad, this is your lucky day. You found him!”

He turned around to reveal the aforementioned scarred face. Lilith forgot to draw breath. The warrior turned towards her and bowed his head.

“Captain Rizzen Kazzaren of the Army of the Red Dragon, at your service.” he introduced himself. Lilith tilted her head to appear taller.

“Lilith Drisraen, High-Priestess of Lolth and granddaughter of the revered Matron Mother Drisinil of House Drisraen.” She gestured towards the bar. “This is my brother, Shar’Nadal. He said you have something of value to sell, and I’m willing to buy.”

Rizzen chuckled and crossed his arms in front of him.

“Straight to business. I like that.” he smirked. “But alas, the goods are already at the hands of our trading partner. I cannot provide them for you.”

Lilith took a deep breath, taking in the stench of stale ale, unwashed adventurers and the material, someone could call food with a little goodwill from the kitchen.

“We can pay much more than your partner.” She stated. Rizzen raised his brow but his smirk stayed on.

“You don’t even know who our trading partner is.” he laughed.

“Fallond Bordann. The duergar.” Shar’Nadal inserted “And we don’t want to re-sell. We just need some samples to buy.”

Rizzen turned towards him.

“Then why are you bothering me? You should go to Fallond and negotiate a price with him.”

Lilith exchanged looks with her brother, but before she could say anything, Shar’Nadal blurted out

“Because we want to go up to the surface.”

Rizzen’s eyes grew wide, and he raised a brow at the statement, but he nodded.

“Well, you came to the right company then.” He commented.

“How long you have been up there?” Lilith queried, and Rizzen gestured for them to take a seat at his table, before joining them and answering.

“The last time we had a mission topside, it lasted for a few tendays. I cannot give you the details though.”

Lilith nodded.

“And if I’d say we need experienced troops and scouts to form an expedition, can your company help us?”

“I am not the one to decide it.” the captain deflected the priestess’ direct question. “I can however, point you to the appropriate person.”

Lilith crossed her arms in front of her. Shar’Nadal once again took the reins of the conversation.

“Thank you, that would be fine.”

Rizzen nodded again, and scribbled something onto a piece of parchment he fished out from his cloak’s pocket. He handed the parchment over to Lilith, who examined it with a curious look.

“The place where you can meet me and my company.” Rizzen explained. “I shall tell our leader about your request, and he will decide if he wants to negotiate with you.”

And with that, he bowed to Lilith and turned to leave.

“So…?” Shar’Nadal poked his sister when the warrior left the tavern. “What do you think?”

Lilith found herself still looking after Rizzen’s form, and she turned back to her brother with a bit of confusion etched to her face.

“Umm… He’s fine… For a mere commoner. And a mercenary.” She exhaled loudly and turned her attention back to the parchment. “And he has given us something for start.”

“You think we should go there and meet their leader?” Shar’Nadal was excited, Lilith could hear it in his voice clearly.

“Yes, we definitely should.” She nodded. “But not alone. We should go home and gather some reinforcements before venturing to this outpost.”

Shar’Nadal hummed contentedly.

“All right. Let’s hit home at once, and gather what we need!”

Lilith pulled him back to his seat he was already standing up from.

“Not so fast!” She tutted. “The journey here was exhausting, and I’m thirsty. Let’s have a drink, shall we?”

Shar’Nadal blinked in surprise, but nodded to Lilith and went to the bar to order their drinks. Lilith in the meantime stared at the crude map of the Red Dragon compound in her hand, and found herself daydreaming about the handsome mercenary she got it from.

* * *

Back at Castle Drisraen, Vimora marched through the corridor leading to the servant’s quarters. She hoped she could find the one she was looking for in there, because she didn’t have any inclination to search the whole building. She had no luck, but when she turned to leave, she heard noises from nearby. It sounded like someone carrying a big load had dropped it into water.

Vimora followed the sound, and found herself in the laundry room, and her sister leaning above a tub, scrubbing one of the bedsheets. Allindra worked in silence, only hissed sometimes when the soapy water got into the cracks in her skin. Her hands were full of small scabs and her skin broke from the chemicals in the water she used for cleaning up and washing.

“Oh, how far the mighty had fallen!” Vimora sighed theatrically, making Allindra nearly fall into the washtub.

“Goddess, Vimora!” Allindra grumbled “You scared the life out of me!”

“Sadly this isn’t the case.” Vimora deadpanned. “And it’s _yathtallar_ for you, pariah!”

Allindra lowered her head and her voice.

“I apologize, High-priestess…”

Vimora nodded.

“Good.”

She circled around her sister like a predator around prey. Allindra did not follow her movement, only stared at the ground in front of her. As it was custom for servants. Vimora almost pitied her.

“Come with me, sister dear!” The priestess grabbed Allindra’s arm “The laundry won’t run away, and I have better things to discuss with you. And I find this place to be insufficient for such.”

Allindra stared at her in confusion from her sudden change of tone, but obeyed. Vimora led her to her own quarters, which she protected from scrying and any form of divination, and pushed her sister into an armchair next to the bookcase.

“Why am I here?” Allindra dared to ask after a long pause. Vimora rolled her eyes.

“Where are your manners? Have you completely forgot your upbringing during your time with the servants?”

The insult hit home. Allindra straightened her back and tilted her head to look Vimora in the eye.

“That’s more like it!” the priestess grinned. “Tea?”

Allindra nodded and Vimora snapped her fingers. A magical construct – probably the work of the late Ronwen – appeared and brought two teacups and a kettle. It filled the cups and put them on the small table next to Allindra’s seat, then folded itself into a small box Vimora put back into its place.

“Now that we are done with the pleasantries” Vimora commented while stirring her tea “I want you to know something.”

Allindra could barely hold her cup in her injured hands, but she was determined to hold on to it like a lifeline.

“To be fair, I never thought what Mother Drisinil did to you was necessary.” Vimora spoke and once again, what left her mouth surprised Allindra.

“She stripped you and your family from your rightful place and inheritance.” Vimora continued “All for a botched effort of taming an umber hulk. Wasn’t an unusual feat, but she could have appreciated the effort.”

Allindra nodded and took a sip from her tea. It was bitter.

“Besides, that beast could have been useful for us! It wasn’t as much of a failure as she made it look.” Vimora cast her web, and the way Allindra frowned she knew she caught her in it.

“I uh… I really don’t mind now.” Allindra sighed. “I needed that lesson. If anything, I know I can survive the life of a servant.”

“And aren’t we all servants of the Spider Queen?” Vimora mused. “Why would you keep living in a life of poverty and squalor if you can take back what is yours?”

Allindra raised her head.

“Are you suggesting…?” she dared not to say it out loud. Besides, if Vimora said it, the treachery would be her idea.

“I suggest you stand on your feet again, dear sister.” Vimora deflected. “The way you do it is entirely up to you. I just wanted you to know that I am here to help.”

* * *

Drisinil sat on her throne and watched indifferently as the weapons master and his son argued about some goblin or another. She detached herself from the doings of her household for tendays now, and she had no inclination to re-enter their lives. There was a strange emptiness inside her she couldn’t find a way to fill. She ordered the cooks to prepare her favourite meal, but while the rest of the family dug into it and devoured it like a swarm of locusts, she had no appetite. The fine aged rootwine tasted like vinegar in her mouth. She found sleeping was more desirable than the young and dashing bard lying next to her. The only thing she still found some joy in was her time spent in the chapel, and in the crypt. Alone with the remains of her ancestors and departed household members. She often found herself next to Nym’s sarcophagus, gently swiping the dust from the lid and the small plaquette with his name on it. She read the epitaph multiple times and scolded herself for doing so. It wasn’t the loss of her spouse that vexed her, much more the way it happened. The futility of Nym’s final try to take the reins of his life to his own hands by ending it. All drow knew Lolth to be an omnipresent force, there was no escape from her in this life or the next. If Nym would only have talked to her…

Drisinil sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, removing her headdress which became heavier with every passing day. Zathriel and Adriel stopped their debate and turned towards the Matron Mother in unison. Before the stillness could turn into awkwardness the door opened and Lilith marched inside, Shar’Nadal in tow.

“Matron Mother, I wish to speak with you!” Lilith began.

“Get on with it!” Mother Drisinil’s tone didn’t fly over her granddaughter’s head.

“Is there something wrong?” Lilith inquired instead of stating her request.

“There is, child. Just none of your business.” Drisinil sighed and pressed her hand on her forehead.

“I do not wish to bother you.” Lilith took a step back. “I can come back when you feel better.”

Drisinil’s ice-cold eyes flashed dangerously.

“Do not patronize me, girl!” she raised her voice. “I’m no frail old crone that breaks from a breeze! Tell me what you want, and go on your way!”

Lilith had a bad feeling about her grandmother being so irritable all of a sudden, but she cleared her throat and spoke.

“I wish to establish an expedition to the surface. I already contacted the appropriate personnel, but I need guards for the meeting.”

“And why do you wish to go to the dreadful surface world, full of dangers and enemies?” Drisinil inquired.

“I want to bring more glory and treasure to increase the fame of our House.” Lilith replied truthfully.

Drisinil chuckled and tapped her fingers on the armrest of her throne.

“Very well. I will allow it!” She concluded. “You may assemble a party to go with you.”

Lilith turned towards Zathriel.

“Weapons master!”

Zathriel came closer and stopped next to his niece.

“What is it you require, High-priestess Lilith?”

Lilith began to explain her plan and the approximate number of soldiers she might need as protection if the negotiations went sour to the weapons master.

Shar’Nadal didn’t really listen. His eyes focused on the dragon snarling at him from behind the Matron Mother’s throne. Ronwen did a fantastic job, the poor dead thing looked fiercer than it was in life. Azzakhgargax’s head ended up turned into a new pair of leather boots for Mother Drisinil and the dragon’s skull was used to make a variety of items and jewellery. Only the horns were kept to put on display, probably thanks to the short deadline Drisinil gave to Ronwen before she sacrificed him.

“If they could do this to us, they would.” Shar’Nadal got drawn back to reality by his cousin’s voice.

“What?”

Adriel stood next to him and pointed at the dragon.

“If Matron Mothers could stuff our bodies and put it on display, they would do it in a heartbeat.”

Shar’Nadal furrowed his brow.

“Our skin – unlike dragon scales – rots away even if prepared with chemicals.” Adriel continued. “They couldn’t preserve us and look at us. That’s why both Ronwen and Nym are buried.”

“And your point is…?”

Adriel turned to his cousin with a condescending smirk.

“Do you think you matter to her, Shar’Nadal?” when the other drow didn’t answer he asked again “Do you think she cares about you? That she won’t gut you if it made her more powerful?”

Shar’Nadal stole a glance at Lilith, still talking with Zathriel while Mother Drisinil leaned back and seemed like she was falling asleep. He turned back to Adriel with a confused and worried look on his face.

“Don’t walk like you own the place.” Adriel spat, then left his cousins and his father to their business. Shar’Nadal watched his back as the warrior left, wondering the reason behind his words.

* * *

Lilith didn’t notice Shar’Nadal and Adriel’s dispute in the background, she was occupied with brainstorming with Zathriel about possible outcomes of the meeting with the mercenaries. She wanted to be prepared for anything and the weapons master helped immensely. The first halt came in Lilith’s plans when she asked Zathriel for escorting her and her company, in the form of the stern voice of Mother Drisinil.

“The weapons master cannot go with you, child. He has more important business to attend.”

Both Zathriel and Lilith turned towards Drisinil. They thought she'd fallen into reverie or was asleep.

“Right.” The weapons master bowed his head. “Apologies, Matron Mother.”

He turned back to Lilith.

“While I indeed have other odds and ends to take care of, you could take Adriel with you. He’s my second in command, and a skilled warrior. He will watch your back if I tell him to.”

Lilith concentrated on her features, not to let the displeasure show.

“It is done then.” She concluded. “I will bring Adriel and a handful of our soldiers with me. Send him to my quarters! We’ll leave in an hour.”

Zathriel nodded, bowed to the Matron Mother, then left the same way his son did. Lilith was about to leave as well, when she heard Drisinil’s voice again.

“You did something unwise, my dear girl.”

Lilith furrowed her brow and glanced up at her grandmother.

“What do you mean?”

Drisinil straightened in her seat, gaining some of her former royal posture back.

“You are a priestess of our Lady. We do not seek the advice of those who are beneath us.”

“Zathriel is our House’s weapons master. If he’s not the one to turn to in questions of warfare, then who?” Lilith found herself disagreeing with Mother Drisinil for the first time.

“Males are our soldiers, servants and sometimes partners. That doesn’t mean they are our equals. By asking his advice, you fed the false notion of importance to Zathriel, and it will lead to him forgetting his place.” Drisinil argued.

“I would be a fool to disregard a soldier’s warning only because he’s male.” Lilith shook her head. “If it could save me from trouble, I am willing to listen to them.”

Drisinil stared at her with a menacing glare, but she giggled and leaned back.

“Sometimes I can’t decide if you’re perfectly cruel or borderline heretical.”

Lilith swallowed the knot that tied her throat. Drisinil waved her hand.

“Go now! You want to leave soon, so you have to prepare!”

Lilith nodded and sprinted out of the throne room. Everyone forgot about Shar’Nadal, still standing next to the door.

* * *

The small company bearing the colours of House Drisraen left the castle in a hurry. Lilith once again floated on a magical disk among the armoured riding lizards of the soldiers and their commander. Adriel led them on the back of his beast he named Velkyn - “Unseen” - for the animal had the ability to completely blend into its surroundings. It was even more feral than Lilith’s own riding lizard, but Adriel managed to beat it into submission. Lilith stared at the warrior’s back, the segments of his adamantine full plate, the spider silk ornamental plume on his helmet, and the greatsword strapped to his back. Rumour had it that the sword originally belonged to an orc chieftain Zathriel defeated in combat then killed a hundred years ago. Lilith didn’t believe it, for the blade had a much more refined appearance than the crude works of the orcs. It wasn’t drowish in origin, that was true. The runes along the sword’s blood canal resembled dwarven runes, and Lilith wondered just how much she didn't know about her family’s history, and how much of it was fake.

“It won’t be long.” Shar’Nadal appeared in her line of sight, absent-mindedly scratching Sargtlin’s long neck. The lizard stuck its tongue out and hissed contentedly. “What’s wrong?”

Lilith sighed and squirmed. It was getting uncomfortable sitting atop of the floating disk.

“Don’t speak unless spoken to.” She recited the number one rule of desired conduct for drow males monotonously. Shar’Nadal frowned and remained silent for the rest of the trip.

They arrived to the compound in the outskirts of Zeberra a few hours later. The camp was visible from afar, even if the residents didn’t light any fires. Drow were going about their business everywhere, and a few of the soldiers stood guard at the single entrance. Lilith knew very well that the truly dangerous guards were hidden in the shadows, watching them.

A runner turned and went back inside the compound when Lilith’s company approached the guard post. “State your business!” One of the warriors demanded. Adriel looked down on him from the saddle of his lizard and replied.

“We want to talk with your leader about a contract.”

The soldier didn’t even nod.

“We got no information about new contracts.” he deadpanned. Adriel was about to riposte something, but Shar’Nadal beat him to it.

“Please send for captain Kazzaren. He’ll know who we are and what we want.”

None of the guards moved. Lilith sighed and got prepared for personally lecturing them when she saw movement from inside, and a larger group of soldiers came.

“No need, I think he already got informed about our arrival.” She stated victoriously.

Rizzen saw the approaching company of warriors on riding lizards from the compound’s battlements and went to gather a few of his soldiers. When they arrived at the gates, they already heard the dispute between the newcomers and the guards.

“Let them pass!” He ordered. “They are here on my account.”

The guard nodded and they opened the gate for Lilith’s party. Adriel glared at the two soldiers as he passed them, while Lilith didn’t even bother to look. She had appearances to hold up after all.

“Captain!” She greeted Rizzen and his soldiers when her floating disk stopped next to the mercenaries. “I think I can give a lucrative offer for your commander.”

“Follow our lead then!” The warrior stated then gestured to the rest of his company to march. The Red Dragons mingled with Lilith’s House soldiers, which made her slightly worried. She again stole a glance at Adriel, who steamed without a sound in his saddle. They were outnumbered by the tens if not more, as Lilith saw.

They passed the camp workers, other mercenaries and scouts, and Lilith couldn’t help but notice the open hatred they measured her with. Not her soldiers, not her brother, her. She had a feeling that the antagonistic looks she got were rather for the spider-shaped ornaments and her headdress and what they represented, than for her person, yet it made her feel increasingly uneasy. The other fact she noticed that only a handful of females were present among the mercenaries, and they too stared at her with disgust. No sign of a priestess or – Lolth forbid – a priest. That didn’t calm Lilith’s nerves.

To ease the foreboding sense in her, she tried to converse with their escort.

“So… How long have you been a mercenary, captain?”

Rizzen regarded her with amusement, and Lilith studied his features for a little while. His eyes were almond-shaped, as any other drow’s, and ruby-red. Its vivid hue matched his tiny smile creeping at the corners of his thin lips. His face reflected an openness and reassurance Lilith never saw written on any other drow’s features. In other words, he looked positively dumb considering drow standards.

“I’ve been a fighter since I can remember, milady.” Rizzen answered and turned away from Lilith. The spell of the moment has been broken. Was it the cold tone of his voice, or the way he noticed her eyeing him and choosing to look away? She never knew.

“I see. So the life of a mercenary came naturally to you?”

“Not quite.” Rizzen answered dryly. “None of us is here because we are natural born sell-swords. We all have our reasons.”

“Everyone has their sad story.” Lilith shrugged indifferently. “Regardless, you seem to have a pretty organized camp.”

“Thank you for the compliment, milady.” The captain nodded his head. “I shall forward it to our commander. It’s his doing, after all.”

“And what is your doing? I can’t really believe all you have to do is stand and be pretty all day.”

Rizzen chuckled, but it sounded a tiny bit irritated.

“I’m a mere captain, milady. Most of my work consists of training the troops, consulting with our commander about assignments, sending and leading troops on said assignments, and entertaining young noblewomen coming to visit our esteemed leader.” He recited, adding a healthy bit of sarcasm to the end. The priestess didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t mind.

“Oh, you are indeed an entertaining conversation-partner, captain.” Lilith sneered.

“Too bad that we arrived to our destination then!” Rizzen exclaimed, voice laden with false-regret. He offered his hand to help Lilith get off from her disk, which she accepted. For a short moment, she saw herself as the Matron Mother of her own House, and the dashing mercenary captain as her _ilharn,_ entangling his arm with hers. The moment passed as soon as her feet touched the ground. Rizzen let her go so fast it seemed like the contact was burning him. The mercenaries escorted Lilith and her entourage to a larger building, probably made by duergar some centuries ago, and left one by one, until only their captain remained.

Lilith, Shar’Nadal and Adriel were allowed to follow Rizzen’s lead into the building, the rest of House Drisraen’s soldiers had to wait and hold the reins of Sargtlin and Velkyn. As they passed the two-winged door bearing etchings of dragons and similar motifs, Lilith saw the personal guards of the Red Dragon commander. They appeared to be motionless suits of black and red armour, with spears and twin-blades in hand. The only sign of them being living creatures was the movement of their eyes, following as the small company passed them on their way to the commander’s quarters. They stopped at another two-winged door, guarded by two drow in studded leathers bearing the same markings as their heavy-armoured counterparts, one of them had a swirling, stylized red dragon tattooed on his face.

“Tell Rezz’nar I brought clients.” Rizzen spoke to the tattooed one. The older male studied Lilith and her household members before nodding and disappearing behind the door. A short while later, he emerged and signed to his partner to stand aside. Rizzen opened the door and gestured for Lilith to step inside. Adriel went first, not-so accidentally bumping his shoulder into the captain’s, followed by Lilith, who tried to imitate her grandmother’s queenly presence and stature, leaving Shar’Nadal last, who grinned at Rizzen and stopped next to his sister. When all of them were inside, the captain closed and locked the door, standing guard in front of it.

Lilith let her eyes wander around the spacious chamber, and take in every little detail. It lacked the luxury of her own quarters, rather resembled a simple bedroom combined with a study and war-room. A large adamantine and red full plate armour on a stand occupied a corner, near a tower shield bearing the sigil of the mercenary group next to a fine, dwarven-made longsword. No drow-craft weapons or armour Lilith could spy in the room. That made her wonder.

The other thing made her wonder was the owner of those things, a drow male of remarkable height – he was even taller than Rizzen – and build. His stark white hair was clipped short and his facial features told of having a noble background. If mother Drisinil’s posture and presence reminded Lilith of a queen, this drow male surely could demand the title of a king.

“Excuse my lack of proper hospitality.” His deep voice boomed through the chamber. “I did not expect visitors.” he stepped away from the war-table he hunched over when Lilith and company entered. “I am Rezz’nar, commander of the Red Dragons. How can I be of service?”

No one expected Adriel’s reaction to the Red Dragon commander. He drew his greatsword and stepped in front of Lilith. Rezz’nar stopped in his track. Lilith heard the faint sound of a sword being drawn from the back. The captain was prepared to defend his commander.

“Adriel, what the nine hells?!” She yelled at her bodyguard.

“You don’t know who this is, do you?” Adriel spat not turning his gaze away from Rezz’nar.

“The bloke we were about to hire to help us with our expedition?” Shar’Nadal inserted. “Thanks for screwing it up, though.”

“He says his name is Rezz’nar…" the soldier of House Drisraen defended "And I know only one drow with his name, and with his description.”

The commander cast a condescending sneer at the younger warrior and crossed his arms in front of his broad chest. Lilith noticed the fabric of his shirt pulling taut, like it was about to rip open.

“What are you waiting for? Tell them!”

Adriel still glared at the other male with a venomous stare, but complied.

“He didn’t tell us his full name. It’s Rezz’nar the Kinslayer. He’s a heretic, and a traitor. A wanted murderer and agitator.”

“Nice of you to remember all of my titles.” Rezz’nar commented sarcastically. “And may I ask who told you all that?”

Adriel tried to look bigger by puffing himself up.

“Our weapons master hails from Menzoberranzan. He told me about you, and your deeds.”

Rezz’nar barked a baleful laughter.

“I wonder if his tales were sprung by envy or admiration.”

“None.” Adriel snarled. “He knew you for what you are.”

“No big news. Everyone did.” Rezz’nar shrugged. “And they followed me for it. They still do.”

Lilith stole a glance behind her. Rizzen indeed drew his sword and shield, and stood ready to strike. The two guards from before also appeared next to him, flanking Shar’Nadal, who also noticed the danger and kept his hands close to his concealed daggers. She turned back to Adriel.

“What did he do?” She was curious, but also terrified. Looking at Rezz’nar, she felt like a tiny myconid in front of a hungry rock-dragon.

“I earned my moniker for eradicating an entire House.” Rezz’nar answered her. “My own.”

Lilith gulped but felt her throat going dry.

“He killed at least five High-priestesses, and seven of the novices.” Adriel added. “Not to mention the wizards and the soldiers. The ones he trained himself.”

“A small price to pay for the life of my son.” Rezz’nar inserted. “And make no mistake, I would do it again if I had to.”

Lilith took a deep breath and raised her hands before crossing them in the drowish-custom for not wanting to fight.

“Adriel, stand down!” She commanded. “We are not here to arrest Rezz’nar.”

Adriel huffed indignantly but put his sword away. The mercenaries did the same.

“I apologise.” Lilith felt weird for saying the words, but she knew she had to ease the tension in the air. This alleged heretic was her only chance to succeed with her plans, and she didn’t want to lose it.

“I accept.” Rezz’nar nodded, and let his arm hang by his body. “So if you aren’t here to make me reminisce about my happy memories of my former hometown, then what brought you to my humble camp?”

“We are assembling an expedition to the surface.” Lilith explained “And my brother spoke with your captain about it. They told me you are the one I should seek for sorting out the details.”

Rezz’nar cocked his head to the side, still crossing his arms.

“And what is it you require?”

Lilith took a deep breath.

“Soldiers. Scouts, familiar with the terrain. Weapons and equipment suited to bear the light of that world.” she giggled nervously and spreaded her arms. “Anything and everything you can give me. And rest assured, I’ll pay you handsomely.”

Rezz’nar lowered his arms and took a few steps in Lilith’s direction.

“Very well.” he held his hand out and shook the priestess’. “Come _yathtallar,_ and tell me about our little adventure. I need to know what you have in mind in order to calculate the necessary numbers of troops and the price.”

Lilith gestured towards the war table in the far end of the room.

“Lead the way, commander!”

* * *

After Lilith and company left with Rizzen’s lead, the two guards followed them and closed the door to Rezz’nar’s quarters.

“And what do _you_ think about our newest employer?” the Red Dragon commander asked. After he uttered the words of his question, the air next to him began to slightly blur, revealing the form of a shorter and lithe drow male in a pair of tight leather trousers and a sleeveless, revealing peacock-blue coat.

“Well, she’s kinda level-headed for a priestess.” the wizard replied while examining his manicure. “And brave. Not wise, but brave.”

Rezz’nar leaned to the war table and crossed his arms again.

“Do you suspect an ulterior motive?” He prodded.

“Nah, she’s a priestess.” The wizard shrugged. “They’re full of ulterior motives. And themselves. Mostly themselves.”

“Kimaryon…” Rezz’nar cast a pointy glance at the wizard.

“All right, all right!” Kimaryon raised his hands “Sheesh… I think she’s honest in her plans to go and get riches from topside. Also she’s working on her own, not under the orders of their _ilharess_. Which made me wonder…”

Rezz’nar shifted on the edge of the war table. Kimaryon sat next to him and crossed his long legs, leant back and stared at the ceiling.

“What if she’s going up because she’s falling out of favour?” he mused. “What did she say, how much House Drisraen is willing to pay for our troubles?”

“Enough to do the trip.” Rezz’nar answered curtly.

“Fine, I don’t want to rummage through your coffers.” he shrugged and grinned at the commander “As long as you pay me for my services.”

“It depends on said services.” Rezz’nar grinned back.

“I couldn’t really see her thoughts on the matter.” Kimaryon concluded. “She was pretty preoccupied with your map, and your handsome captain at the door.”

Rezz’nar chortled.

“Poor Rizzen… He seems to draw the attention of priestesses no matter if he wants it or not.”

Kimaryon stretched and hopped on his feet.

“Go and find Rylith!” Rezz’nar ordered the wizard. “And if you’re done with that, fetch Rizzen and come back here. I need all of my captains to discuss this new assignment.”

“You’re such a slave-driver!” Kimaryon whined but sauntered to the door.

* * *

Far away from both the Red Dragon compound and the assembling adventuring party of Lilith, Allindra stood guard while her sons broke into the kitchen to steal some food for themselves. They couldn’t dine with the rest of the family, being outcasts so they had to make do with the leftovers or what remained declared inedible. She lost a few pounds since Mother Drisinil threw her immediate family out, and they had to move into the servants’ quarters. A few minutes later the twins emerged with a small basket full of some ingredients and mushrooms. Allindra signed for them to follow her, and they scuttled like rats back to their holes. She watched as her sons and spouse dug into the mushrooms and stale bread they could get their hands on, and her face contorted into a defiant snarl. Vimora was right. They didn’t deserve to live like this.

She gathered her courage and sneaked up to her sister’s quarters, hoping to find Vimora there. Zathriel opened the door and came out of her room with a bruise on his face and a broken lip. Allindra turned away to avoid recognition but the weapons master passed her without as much as a glance.

“You did this to yourself, Zathriel!” Vimora’s voice bellowed through the corridor, prompting the male drow to quicken his pace.

“ _Yathtallar,_ a word…” Allindra stepped in front of Vimora, interrupting whatever insult she aimed to throw at her already retreating spouse.

“A word?” Vimora echoed “What does a servant has to say to me?”

Allindra tilted her head.

“Remember your suggestion?”

Vimora grinned at her and pulled her inside the room, closing the door.

* * *

Adriel was livid. It was horrible enough to babysit Lilith and that unbearable idiot Shar’Nadal, they ended up hiring the most wanted criminal of the Underdark. Shame on this House, piled upon shame. If he learned anything in his short life, it was that keeping up appearances mattered just as much as having power. If any of the other ruling Houses get wind of Lilith’s shenanigans, they’re done for.

He entered the weapons master’s quarters to set his greatsword on the rack and doff his armour. He saw Zathriel’s belongings in a pile, and he found it unusual. After he settled down, he went to look for the other drow. He found Zathriel in the washroom, sitting in a tub of lukewarm water, drinking the swill he obtained from one of the serving goblins. The several darker spots and scars on the weapons master’s skin caught Adriel’s eyes.

“What is it now?” Zathriel growled without even looking at Adriel. “Came to gloat? I bet you like what you see.”

“It’s me, _jabbuk.”_ Adriel deadpanned. “And what did you do this time to anger her?”

Zathriel finally deigned to look at the younger male, registering his question along with his presence.

“Existing, probably.” He snorted. “She’s extremely volatile lately.”

Adriel nodded.

“That means I better get going. She’ll want to know what Lilith is up to, and with whom.”

Zathriel shrugged and drank another draught from the bottle in his hand.

“Yea. You do that, lad. Leave me alone to rot in peace.”

Adriel wanted to riposte with saying that the only thing rotting will be the weapons master’s insides if he keeps on drinking goblin made dishwater, but he swallowed the insult.

Vimora indeed was impatient, and jumped at him before he even had a chance to close the door.

“So? What are the plans of that usurper?”

Adriel took a deep breath.

“She’s planning an expedition, and allied herself with the Red Dragon mercenary company.”

Vimora crossed her legs and tapped her fingers on the armrest of her chair.

“That is all? I sent you to give me information and you come back with nothing?”

Her tone wasn’t entirely threatening, but carried an edge that made it intimidating. Adriel swallowed a knot in his throat.

“No, Mother Vimora. I just merely shortened what I wished to say.”

“Then speak! You do know how to do that, don’t you?”

Adriel caught himself before flashing an enraged glare at his mother.

“Lilith hired a heretic named Rezz’nar the Kinslayer. The one our weapons master talked about.”

Vimora laughed out loud.

“And why should I care about a fairy-tale you males are trading? Who this mercenary is, is irrelevant.”

Adriel kept on staring at his feet. Vimora sighed contentedly.

“No matter. Mercenaries are known for loving gold over everything else. If they prove to be a nuisance, we’ll pay them to disappear. Or to take dear Lilith to the surface and leave her there.”

Adriel wanted to ask a lot of questions, but decided now was not the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> \- "Yathtallar" is "High-Priestess" in the drow dialect of Elvish. (Translated for non-drow heathens. ;) ) In any case I use drowish words or sentences - yep, there will be places in the fic where whole sentences will be in the drow language - I will provide translations in the notes. As I think I already said before in another note... Ohwell.  
> Similarly, "Ilharess" means "Matron Mother", "Ilharn" means "Patron (of the House)", "Jabbuk" means "Master" as someone (usually a male drow) in charge of some task or office, rank or title (<\- I forgot this one before, sorry). 
> 
> Also, if anyone is interested in the recipe for "the drider's spite", just say so, I'll share. :D (It's a dark-purplish coloured cocktail of sorts, and if you like blueberries, you'll love it.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The expedition suffers some setbacks (eeeeww, alliteration!) in the form of Vimora and Allindra teaming up against Lilith. Mother Drisinil intervenes, and unifies the House against a common enemy. *banjo intensifies*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Welcome back, and thank you for reading!
> 
> This chapter again contains massive warnings for the following: Bullying, fantasy-racism (dwarf-hating), domestic violence, arranged marriage, canon typical incest (no I will not go into details, but it's there), alcohol abuse, goblin-abuse, dysfunctional family relationships, overall toxic behaviour from nearly all of the characters. 
> 
> And since I don't know how many of you even read the end notes, I'd like to put a disclaimer here, before anyone gets the wrong idea: My characters are not me. Some of them have a very different personality and world-view, and do not in any way represent my way of thinking or opinions on social or political matters, fantasy or real world (this is, after all, a fictional story meant for entertainment purposes, and not some sort-of sociological/political study or something like that). 
> 
> Thank you for your understanding, and have fun!

It took a few tendays’ delay until Lilith managed to assemble her expedition, and even then she encountered a lot of trouble with funding. As she fumed in relative silence while waiting on the House’s treasurer - a duergar by the name of Barend Luthger – to arrive and consult with her, she calculated the losses she already had. Things didn’t look bright, and she didn’t even leave the family estate. She got so immersed in her thoughts she nearly jumped when she heard Shar’Nadal’s voice next to her.

“Another dead worker, another cart got damaged and some of the equipment stolen.” he reported while prudently staying out of arm's – and snakes' – reach. “I’m beginning to think someone is sabotaging our little trip to sunshineland.”

Lilith – still frustrated because of forgetting her brother’s ability to walk without making any noise – snorted and turned to him.

“You just “beginning to think” someone deliberately – and quite successfully – hinders our efforts to start the expedition? Goddess, you’re slow. But at least you have an unmatched talent for stating the obvious.”

Before Shar’Nadal could riposte, the door at the end of the corridor they were standing in opened, and the round frame of the grey dwarf appeared in the doorway, the same grim expression on his face both siblings could remember ever since Matron Drisinil appointed him to his current post.

“Hello there, Stumpy!” Shar’Nadal greeted the bookkeeper “How’s it going?”

He was ignored by both the dwarf and his sister. Instead, Barend addressed Lilith directly.

“I have no good news for you, mistress.” he grumbled under his enormous beard. “I have an order to limit your expenses, and you already overspent your allowance.”

“Who ordered you?” Lilith exclaimed furiously “I spoke with Mother Drisinil, and she allowed my expedition.”

“That may be true, but she still limited the amount of gold I’m allowed to dispense to you to aid your efforts. I am merely following her orders.”

The duergar’s emotionless voice grated on Lilith’s nerves.

“I need that gold to start the expedition to the surface, so the treasury will have a fill big enough to last for decades!”

“I understand, mistress. But surely you see as well that I can’t rely on big words alone to give you such a great amount of the family’s wealth to spend. If that would be the case, your aunts would already have made their mother bankrupt.”

“I don’t care, Barend!” Lilith was close to screaming at the duergar’s face. “If I can’t leave with the gold I need, I can’t pay my workers and replace my damaged equipment. My whole endeavour can go down the drains, and it will be a loss ten times the money I needed.”

Barend had seen his fair share of priestesses throwing a tantrum over one thing or the other, and Lilith’s threatening behaviour didn’t sway him.

“I can only advise you to wait another month, then start your expedition from your allowance.”

Lilith scoffed.

“We both know my allowance is hardly enough for that. Besides, I have waited enough. If you won’t give me what I need, I will go to Mother Drisinil directly, and tell her about your unwillingness to cooperate with me. Do you like the sound of that?”

The bookkeeper sighed. He wasn’t afraid of the priestess but her threats bored him.

“Do that, mistress. Let’s see if you can come back with Matron Drisinil’s signature on this letter.” he handed a piece of rolled-up parchment to Lilith.

“If she tells me personally to give you the gold, I will give it to you. But until then, my hands are tied.”

Lilith eyed the parchment and the dwarf for a moment before taking it and grumbling angrily.

“Ridiculous. I can’t get my own allowance and I have to answer for a duergar. What’s next? Males marching on the streets demanding rights for themselves?”

“Actually, it would make sense…” Shar’Nadal inserted but was met with his sister’s ire.

“Oh, shut up! I can’t hear my thoughts because of you!”

Shar’Nadal rolled his eyes and was the first to leave the scene. He heard Barend giving a two-hour time limit for them to return with Mother Drisinil’s sign on the paper. Lilith kept on grumbling about “dwarf greed” and accused Barend of being a dragon disguised as a duergar among many unflattering things. The rogue didn’t listen. He stopped in front of the Matron Mother’s chambers, and let his sister go forth and open the door.

Mother Drisinil was reading a book, a cup of her favourite strong herbal tea steamed next to her on the small table. She looked up when the door opened and her granddaughter stormed in.

“Forgive me for intruding Matron Mother, but I have to talk with you.” Lilith stated while hastily opened the parchment. “Could you sign this for me?”

Drisinil furrowed her thin brow, and took the document from Lilith’s hand.

“What is it?” she inquired. “A form allowing you of a withdrawal of seventeen thousand gold pieces from the treasury?”

She looked up with a confused expression.

“Why do I have to sign this? Didn’t Barend give you your share of the gold you brought?”

Lilith sighed and tried her best to calmly explain the situation.

“Someone – Barend stated that it was you – put a limit on my monthly allowance, and he refused to give me the amount I needed. Besides, someone damaged my equipment and killed some of my workers.”

Drisinil leaned back in her armchair with an irritated grunt.

"Nonsense. I didn’t say anything like that to Barend, and I don’t understand why he needs my direct permission to do his Goddess-damned job.” She stood up and took the parchment to her desk, where she began to search for her quill and ink.

“I’m sorry to bother you with this, Mother Drisinil.” Lilith tried to ease the growing tension in the air.

“I’m sure about that.” Drisinil said aridly “And if you know what’s good for you, child, you won’t bother me again.”

Lilith nodded.

“Thank you Matron Mother.” she bowed when Drisinil gave her the signed parchment.

“Now leave me be, and go on your way!” the Matron Mother descended back to her seat. “I crave the company of long-dead fools, who thought they can defy the power of our Goddess.”

She returned to her book, and the siblings returned to the treasury. Barend wasn’t happy, but he gave the permitted amount of gold to Lilith. The rest of the day was spent measuring casualties and buying new equipment. The paying of workers and the hiring of new ones was left for Shar’Nadal, who felt more than happy to finally get rid of his sister.

* * *

After he was done with the task Lilith gave to him, he went out to the city again. More precisely, to the mushroom grove nearing the border of House Drisraen’s territory. It wasn’t the first time Shar’Nadal found himself wondering how long he would last if he’d brave the countless dangers of the Underdark and head to the surface alone or with a small company of the mercenaries they were hiring. His mood lightened somewhat from thinking about the captain of the Red Dragons, and the stories he could tell about his previous trips to the land above.

He sat on the top of a giant mushroom again, letting Sargtlin climb the cave wall and remain there until the rogue got bored with staring at the darkness and the occasional bat flying past above them. Though he found solace in his solitude, Shar’Nadal hated to be alone. Nym came to his mind, and made him feel a pang in his heart. He should have check on him to see how he’s doing… Maybe he could prevent the tragedy. Maybe he could have been someone Nym could trust. Maybe he could have saved him.

He sighed, and let the foolish thoughts and what-ifs fade. Nym made a choice, and he was no more. It wasn’t in Shar’Nadal’s power to bring him back, and even if he could, he wouldn’t do that to him. Still, he found the thought of having more in common with the departed _ilharn_ than he had with anyone else around him unsettling. He lowered himself and curled to a ball on top of the mushroom, ignoring the possible dangers around. He found he wouldn’t even care if a hook horror would choose him as its dinner. The only thing Shar’Nadal thought he’d regret, if he died before going on his sister’s expedition. Which was actually _his_ expedition, but he knew everyone would laugh at him for claiming as such. Fear began to creep inside his thoughts, freezing him in place.

What if they never start the expedition? What if their unseen saboteurs prevail, and they run out of favours with Mother Drisinil? He’ll never see the faraway lands and people he so badly wanted to see. He’ll be confined to his room, only to escape from it when he slept under a multitude of traps and wards to ensure his safety. He would eventually be auctioned off to the highest bidder, and would probably end it all, like Nym did.

No, he won’t do that. Shar’Nadal stood up and whistled for Sargtlin to come and climbed to the saddle. His melancholy gave way to determination. If he can’t find a place for himself among his family, he’ll find it elsewhere. Underground or above, he didn’t care. He had to hold on to this thought.

Adriel crossed the courtyard when Sargtlin waddled past him, carrying Shar’Nadal and his heavy thoughts. The warrior cast a flat look in his cousin’s direction then continued towards the stables.

“Going somewhere?” he heard the rogue ask as he directed his riding lizard next to Adriel.

“Since when is it your business?” the warrior answered with a question.

“Oh, it’s none of my business, that’s for sure.” Shar’Nadal shrugged “But I thought I might go with you.”

Adriel furrowed his brow.

“You just came home in this moment…” he deadpanned.

“Yes, but I know the city unlike you uptight folks, who would never stoop so low as to even talk with the servants or commoners.” Shar’Nadal flashed a disarming smile. “So wherever you’re going, I can help you get there faster.”

Adriel stared at him with some degree of suspicion still etched into his features, then he shrugged and pulled Velkyn’s reins to get the lizard out of its pool the animal happened to nap in before its master arrived.

“Whatever.” the warrior sighed and sat in the saddle “But keep up! I won’t stop because of you, and won’t fetch you if you get lost in the Commoner Quarter again.”

Shar’Nadal scoffed and clicked his tongue to signal for Sargtlin it’s time to move. The pair left Castle Drisraen racing towards downtown Zeberra.

* * *

Far away from the courtyard, Lilith was in the middle of a dispute with her aunt about her costly endeavour. Their debate grew in volume so much that the servants stopped what they were doing, and peeked into the hall to see the two priestess’ verbal duel.

“I only suggest you to reconsider this foolishness.” Vimora stood upright, one hand on her hip, other stroking the agitated vipers hissing and squirming on her whip. “Many went to the surface, and never came back.”

“What you call foolishness, I call necessary risk-taking.” Lilith riposted.

“How is it necessary?” Vimora inquired “The House is currently facing no financial crisis, and we don’t need any kind of commodity which is unobtainable in this very city.”

“My dear aunt, you do not understand.” Lilith sighed and rubbed her temples. “It may be true that our House is currently economically stable, but it won’t last forever, and why shouldn’t I be the one who adds to our wealth and renown by daring to venture somewhere other drow normally wouldn’t?”

“Because it’s unnecessary, as I told you countless times, but you just don’t listen.” Vimora growled.

“Fine then.” Lilith spread her arms. “How about wanderlust? Curiosity? A need to conquer? I bet there are no tenets in our faith that forbids any of those…”

She couldn’t finish before Vimora interrupted her.

“The surface is the home of our enemies!” Her voice raised in volume.

“Good!” Lilith riposted with equally raising her voice. “One more reason for me to go there, and raid their pathetic dwellings for whatever is worth taking from them! One more good reason for me to slaughter the lot of them and loot their corpses. What is it you don’t understand in this?”

“You are impossible to talk to.” Vimora pulled her nose.

“Then dear aunt, we agree that this childish dispute should be over? Wonderful.” Lilith exhaled and span on her heels to leave Vimora's vicinity as soon as it was possible.

“Don’t think you have won; you insolent brat!” Vimora hissed. “You’ll learn that your foolish decisions have consequences soon enough.”

Milifae sat on the battlements of Castle Drisraen, trying to find a place where she can be alone. She had no idea about her mother and Lilith’s clash, so it came as a surprise when the younger priestess came and occupied her spot near the guards’ tower.

“Oh, you’re here.” Lilith stated flatly when she noticed the other drow sitting with her back to the wall. “Don’t mind me, I just came to join you in staring at nothing.”

“Is there something wrong?” Milifae chirped, eager to dig up something she can report to her mother, but also to avoid Lilith doing the same.

“Other than my head threatening to explode because of some unbearable old hags, nothing.” Lilith deadpanned. “And if I may ask, what in the Nine Hells are you doing out here?”

Milifae shrugged.

“I’m done with my daily worship.”

Lilith raised her brow and made an amused little sound.

“I thought there is no such a thing as “being done” with daily worship if it is about Lady Lolth.”

Milifae began to nod eagerly, but Lilith saw through it. Something was off with the other priestess.

“You see, I don’t want to draw her ire against our House, so I refrain from prayer and spend my days in contemplation instead.” Milifae explained. Lilith didn’t care.

“Well… Good for you I guess…” She leaned to the wall and looked down over the courtyard and over the outer walls of the castle. Zeberra’s fae-lights danced in bright hues before her eyes, and she felt the wanderlust she told Vimora about. The overwhelming longing to be somewhere else, to see something else, different from what she always saw when she looked out of her narrow window or over the battlements. She barely left the castle in the past thirty years, and the weight of it began to push her down.

Milifae stood up and joined Lilith in staring out at the city. No word was spoken between them for a long while. Curiously, she craned her neck as if she was following the course of someone or something, and Lilith noticed.

“What is it?”

Milifae turned back to her and pointed at the road leading out from the city towards the castle.

“Riders.”

Lilith’s gaze followed her cousin's slender finger and spotted the incoming crowd of lizards and drow in their saddles. They all had bronze plate-mails, and carried the crest of another House on a banner.

“Lolth-dammit.” She hissed. “They’re coming here.”

“What for?” Milifae tried hard not to sound like she’s close to panicking.

“Do I look like I know?” Lilith snapped. “Look, the gates are opening! We’ll see soon why they are bothering us.”

Just as she finished her sentence, they both saw a runner dashing through the courtyard, probably on his way to alert the House of the visitors – or potential attacking enemies.

Mother Drisinil herself came and stopped in the middle of the courtyard, waiting for the riders to come through the gates. The lizards surrounded her, and for a moment Lilith’s heart skipped a beat. She equally admired her grandmother’s bravado and condemned her arrogance. The armoured rider could strike and cut her down where she stood.

Nothing of the sort happened. The leader of the newcomers dismounted and took her helmet off to reveal a drow female roughly Drisinil’s age, but of a heavier build and much, much taller. Her long snowy hair tried to get out of her loose bun rebelliously, as she flashed a disarming grin at the Matron Mother standing in front of her.

“Drisinil, my dear! How long had it been? A century?”

It hurt to see her again. The very same image she saw right now lived vividly in Drisinil’s mind, only the woman in it wore an elegant spider-silk dress instead of a plate-mail. Her throat went dry but she ignored it, only permitting herself a slight tilt of her head to take a better look.

“You haven’t changed, you daughter-of-a-goblin!” Drisinil mirrored the other woman’s grin. “Actually I thought you’re dead. Everyone did.”

The tall woman in armour barked a loud and unusually cheerful laugh.

“Well, you know me. I live to disappoint.”

Drisinil’s smile became just a little wider at the remark, but it faded in an instant.

“Why are you here, Gladiola?”

The grin stayed but became somewhat predatory. Gladiola knew very well she looked terrifying no matter if she was in full armour or in a dress. Drisinil also remembered that.

“Why, can’t a Matron Mother visit another without mandatory hidden agenda? I just came back, and thought I pay a visit to an old friend.”

Drisinil hardly believed that, but she nodded.

“Well in that case, please do come in! I haven’t prepared for visitors, but I think we can arrange something.”

Milifae and Lilith watched the scene unfold under them and exchanged a nonplussed look after both Matron Mothers disappeared in the doorway.

* * *

Adriel urged Velkyn to a faster pace through the wide streets of the city. He tried to lose Shar’Nadal, but the rogue didn’t lie when he said he knew the city like his own palm. It became increasingly embarrassing to lose sight of him and his funny-looking lizard, only to bump into him approximately two streets later. And the bastard was grinning like he knew. Adriel thought he probably knew. Resigned to the fate of having to bear the proximity of the other male, he stopped playing mounted hide and seek with Shar’Nadal, much to his surprise and the other’s displeasure.

They reached their destination at the other end of town, a shady deep-gnome alchemist’s hut, crammed between two buildings that housed the city’s poor and common-born drow and some orcs. They left the lizards outside and entered the tiny shop which became somewhat crowded after both drow was inside.

“Welcome to Gimble’s Potions, how may I help you?” the bald svirfneblin behind the rackety counter recited on a flat tone.

“I came for one of your concoctions, gnome.” Adriel growled. “And don’t think for a second that you will fool me or sell me something I don’t need. I will raze your rothe-sty in a blink if you just dare to try.”

The deep gnome sighed and asked on a resigned voice.

“Can you tell me what kind of potion you’re looking for?”

Adriel crossed his arms in front of him and stared angrily at the shopkeeper.

“You’re the alchemist. You should know.”

“I have a wide variety of potions for sale, sir. How should I know which one in particular is that you are looking for if you don’t provide at least a name for an ingredient?” The gnome tried to sound pleasant and neutral, but the underlying tension was clear in his voice.

“I don’t care about how wide your variety of potions is, I only want the one my family ordered.” Adriel barked. The gnome pinched his nose with his stubby fingers.

“Yes, yes. One of them noble Houses correct? Which one from the fifty Houses that claim to be of nobility, or became nobility recently?”

Shar’Nadal bit back a snicker but Adriel’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“Don’t play games with me, _iblith.”_ He hissed.

Before things could get out of hand, Shar’Nadal pushed the warrior aside, and with a wide grin he hoped was friendly enough, he leaned to the counter and presented a piece of parchment he stole from Adriel’s bag without him noticing while he was threatening the gnome.

“I apologize good sir, here’s the name of the potion my partner is looking for.” he handed the parchment to the shopkeeper. “It is the one with the phase spider venom extract and the stingy smell.”

The gnome stared at him and the parchment, then nodded before he began to rummage through the shelves.

“You know how it is.” Shar’Nadal chatted idly while waiting for the alchemist to find their potion. “Even though we drow look irresistible and charming on the outside for centuries, after a while, time catches up on us… joints begin to ache, everything hurts when you wake from Reverie, you forget things, like to tell your grumpy son you forbade to smile ever, the name of the potion you ordered a tenday ago…”

Gimble turned back to the two drow with a large vial containing the potion and a tag with a number scribbled on it.

“This would be the one. Ten gold pieces, if you don’t need anything else.”

Shar’Nadal took the vial and paid for the potion.

“Thank you! Lolth bless you with eight legs, _aluvé_!”

He turned and pulled Adriel along to leave the tiny shop. When they were out on the street, he handed over both the vial and the purse to the warrior.

“Look, sorry I took these from you, but I had to intervene before we had to spend another tenday in the shop while that poor svirfneblin was looking for your potion.”

Adriel glared daggers at him, and grabbed the items presented like Shar’Nadal was ready to run away with them on a second thought.

“Never do that again, or I’ll chop your thieving hands off.” He threatened.

“Hey, no need to be an arse about it.” Shar’Nadal pouted. “I would ask who hurt you, but I guess it would be a shorter list to tell who didn’t.”

“Shut up, _wael._ ” Adriel sighed. “I think I understand why your sister has those frequent headaches.”

Shar’Nadal grumbled something in response before getting back to Sargtlin’s saddle and waddling back to their home in silence. Adriel didn’t mind the lack of conversation. He stole a glance to the vial he still clutched in his hand and wondered what his mother needs it for. He shook his head and decided to let it go. It wasn’t good to someone’s health if they were too nosy regarding a priestess’ business. Both of them retreated into their gloomy thoughts, but instantly noticed the crowd of riding lizards in the courtyard bearing another House’s insignia.

“Who are these people?” Shar’Nadal mused.

“House Duskreth.” Adriel answered cautiously. “I heard their Matron Mother disappeared a hundred years ago, but none of her daughters took over. They have the strongest army among all of the Ruling Eight.”

Shar’Nadal turned back to the courtyard and spotted a large riding lizard with fangs as long as his dagger and eyes glowing red with unsettling intelligence for an animal. It followed him and Sargtlin, turning its head as they passed it. Shar’Nadal was positive the creature was some sort of lesser dragon, not a common riding lizard drow used.

“And what do you think, why they’re here?” he prodded Adriel for more information. The warrior shrugged.

“Beats me. I was out in the slums with you, remember?”

“I know.” Shar’Nadal deadpanned “But you probably have an idea why would House Duskreth visit us.”

“I hate to admit” Adriel grumped “but your guess is just as good as mine. I don’t think they will attack us, the number of soldiers waiting in the courtyard are few.”

Shar’Nadal dismounted and led Sargtlin to its pool before turning back to Adriel.

“Whatever the reason, I think we should get inside and see if it’s safe. If we are being attacked by subtle means, we should see if we can save enough of our own to escape and survive to charge House Duskreth with treason and the attempted annihilation of our House.”

Adriel made a face but he nodded.

“I should go look for my mother. She’ll probably want her damned potion if she’s not hacked to pieces already.”

“Yea, you do that. I’ll go see if I can find Mother Drisinil and my sister.”

They both entered the castle, Shar’Nadal using Adriel as a distraction as he sneaked in. The halls were silent, save for a few servants punishing a disobedient goblin, and everything seemed like normal. Shar’Nadal wasn’t convinced yet. He sneaked around the kitchen, stole a bun from the counter, and while he packed it in his bag he checked the servant quarters. He saw Allindra scolding one of the twins for being lazy and unhelpful. Shar’Nadal left them. He caught Adriel talking to Milifae and handing the vial over to her before retreating to the weapons master’s quarters. Faint sounds of yelling and cursing could be heard before Adriel closed the door with a frown and rolling his eyes.

Only their own quarters and the Matron Mother’s chambers were left. Shar’Nadal was pondering which one he should check first, and decided to look for his sister. He found Lilith with Barend in their shared room, the priestess arranging items while the duergar bookkeeper wrote some sort of list.

Leaving the shadows, Shar’Nadal slapped the dwarf on the back and cheerfully greeted him.

“Finest of days to you, Stubby! Mistress Lilith doesn’t even let you breathe, is she?”

“Can I put _him_ on the list?” Lilith pointed at her brother.

“I strongly advise against it.” Barend grumbled. “No one would buy a mouthy male drow.”

“Why, I am insulted!” Shar’Nadal gasped “And no, I think my sister has a great idea! When anyone buying me has enough of my mouthiness and returns me, she just says “no refunds” and sells me again to someone else.”

“Except the priestess who has enough of your mouthiness master Shar’Nadal, won’t return you to your sister, but to your goddess’ many-legged bosom.” Barend cast a flat look at the rogue. “If she isn’t satisfied with only removing your tongue.”

Shar’Nadal’s cheerfulness disappeared.

“And that’s why everyone hates you, Barend.” 

Lilith suppressed a smile at the banter between the duergar and her brother, and cleared her throat to get the attention back at herself.

“I need the inventory listed by the end of this week. If I find anything else valuable, I’ll let you know so you can add it as well.”

Barend nodded.

“As you wish, mistress Lilith.” he turned to leave and nodded to Shar’Nadal before exiting the room.

“So…” the rogue began to speak after the door closed behind the bookkeeper “To what do we owe the pleasure of the second House visiting our humble abode?”

Lilith chuckled.

“Observant as always.” She shrugged and took a delicate glass statuette depicting Lolth from the pile. “Mother Drisinil and Matron Mother Duskreth has some sort-of reunion party in her chambers. I guess a whole century spent apart makes some excellent fodder for gossip.”

Shar’Nadal raised his brow.

“So they’re not here to attack us?”

“I know, I was surprised at first too.” Lilith replied casually. “But as I saw, our Matron is pretty close with this other one. I say we’re safe… for the moment.”

Shar’Nadal nodded and went over to his sister and he too picked up an item from the table.

“Are you going to sell these?” he inquired.

“I don’t really want to, but I must if we are about to fund this expedition properly.” Lilith sighed.

Shar’Nadal stared at the various baubles and trinkets and religious items, then sighed and gently squeezed his sister’s arm.

“Let me fetch a few things of my own.”

* * *

Milifae took long strides towards her own quarters, far away from her bickering parents and disgruntled brother, and bolted the door behind her. The room didn’t resemble the residence of a priestess of Lolth, instead it reminded the observing trespasser of a witch’s hut. The large black cauldron occupying the space in the middle of an elaborate magical pattern on the floor was bubbling with a foul smelling material, to which Milifae added the potion. She chose it, because it was rumoured to cure a lot of ailments thanks to the phase spider venom extract. She hoped that if the potion can ease the pain of inflamed joints, it can also ease the pain of changing shapes. A careful set of stirs to the left and one quick to the right, the spoon hitting the cauldron’s side twice while she uttered the words, and _her_ potion was ready. She took a vial from her desk and carefully filled it with the disgusting, greyish-green liquid that began to glow a little as she capped the container.

Scrutinizing her work for a moment, Milifae nodded and hid the vial among the folds of her dress and left her room. No one stopped her from turning to a rarely used corridor and taking the stairs down to the dungeon. As she descended, her heart began to beat so loud it was the only thing she heard. She tried to calm herself and thought of a better time. Merely a month ago, Milifae had someone she cared about, and was seeing occasionally. He was one of the House soldiers, under the command of Zathriel. She dallied with him, played with the thought of having him as a spouse if Matron Drisinil allows it, but otherwise kept their relationship secret. No matter the precautions though, Vimora found out and made a scene, demanding her daughter to abandon this “childish foolishness” as she called it, and before confining Milifae to the chapel to atone for her sin, she made her watch as she transformed her lover into a drider. She still heard his cries of agony as she stopped in front of his cell. She prepared herself for what she will see before she opened the door and entered.

Those who never saw one personally, had the image of a sleek, beautiful, centaur-like mix between a dark elf and a spider in their mind when they heard the word “drider”. As Milifae knew, the truth was much less visually appealing. She approached the hulking monstrosity in the back of the cell, taking great care to avoid the thick and sticky web covering nearly all of the walls and parts of the floor. She clutched the vial in her hand, hoping the glass won’t break from her squeezing it too hard.

“Krenaste…?” She whispered, and the creature raised its head. Milifae stared at the unblinking black dots on its forehead above the two dark pits that once were amber eyes, full of mischief. The creature’s face was swollen and two chelicerae hung down from under its upper lip, with fangs dripping venom to the floor. If she wouldn’t be there when the curse took effect, she would never recognize him.

The drider lifted its bloated upper body and leaned closer to Milifae.

“Why do you disturb me?” it hissed. Even the way it spoke distorted the words to the brink of being unintelligible. Milifae still recognized her lover’s voice uttering them, though she wished she wouldn’t.

“I… I brought a gift… for you.” she stuttered.

“A gift?” The drider cocked its head with an insect-like motion. “Your gifts brought this curse on me, why should I believe you?”

Milifae took a few steps backwards, trying to get closer to the door in case Krenaste attacks her.

“No, it will help you, I swear!”

Krenaste stood up from his web and crossed the small distance between them. He still wasn’t used to having eight legs, for he nearly tripped and fell over.

“You swore me a lot of things, priestess. And it only brought pain and misery. Again: why should I believe you?”

Milifae presented the vial.

“This time it will be different. I found the way to end the curse, _ssinssrigg._ You will be yourself again!”

The swollen, clawed hand of the drider snatched the vial from the priestess’ palm. Krenaste broke the tip of the container off and shoved it between his fangs, emptying it in one go. When he was done he lowered his hand and head, waiting - same as Milifae did - with bated breath.

For a few dreadful moments, it seemed like nothing will happen. But then Krenaste’s skin and muscles rippled, the shell on his legs shook and the small hairs on them got raised. He let out a hissing chatter infused with a scream, and the shaking and convulsing continued. Milifae backed away to the wall while Krenaste ran up to the ceiling, still screaming from the top of his lungs.

“Liar!” he roared.

“It looks like the potion isn’t working.” Milifae stated with distress. “I must have missed something or miscalculated. But don’t worry my love, I will find another way!”

She didn’t get an answer and the painful hissing and screaming stopped. Milifae thought that maybe Krenaste died for a moment, but then she felt strong hands grabbing her hair and neck from above, and the drider pulled her from the floor to stare into her face with his unblinking insect-eyes.

“You are no love of mine…” Krenaste hiss-growled “You are merely prey. Come back again, and I will wrap you in a nice, tight embrace of my web, and drink the life out of you!”

He dropped her, and Milifae used this opportunity to run as fast as she could to the door, and slam it behind her.

* * *

Unaware of Milifae and her predicament, Lilith watched over Shar’Nadal packing everything she marked for sale into a chest he then proceeded to carry after her to Barend’s office. The siblings left the goods in the duergar’s care, Lilith again reminded him of the deadline of his task, then went on their way. The visit of House Duskreth turned out to be a long one, Matron Duskreth and her entourage stayed until the end of the week. Lilith sometimes saw Mother Drisinil walking with the other matriarch, arms tangled, immersed in conversation. She also noticed Matron Duskreth didn’t have a whip made of snakes, unlike all the other priestesses of Lolth including Drisinil. She followed them around the castle, partly out of curiosity, partly out of concern for her Matron Mother.

Gladiola Duskreth was an intimidating sight, a head taller than any other drow female Lilith ever encountered. Her arms and back were toned and accustomed for wearing heavy armour and a greatsword Lilith feared will end her grandmother’s life with a single blow. Lilith wondered if the huge Matron could take out an orc bare-handed. She definitely looked like she could, and wouldn’t even break a sweat. Her high cheekbones and chiselled features stood in contrast with her body, and her silvery hair flew in soft waves down to her waist. Lilith caught Drisinil’s fingers catching a strand and playing with it absent-mindedly. The two Matron Mothers conversed about what happened while Mother Duskreth was away, and how her absence impacted her family.

“My eldest daughter, Leriana did a surprisingly good job keeping the House together.” Gladiola informed Mother Drisinil.

“No surprise there, you taught her well.” The head of House Drisraen answered.

“If only that would be true.” Gladiola scoffed, but her tone still held a great degree of pride. “Leriana was always a little off… She is a genius in her own field, but constantly baffles me how oblivious she is to the rest of the world.”

“She finished the academy as top of her class, or so I heard. How could she stay alive and excel at the art of war if her head is so up among the mushrooms?”

Gladiola emitted a slightly frustrated chuckle at her conversation-partner’s question.

“As I said, she was always a little off. She’s like a gnomish automaton programmed for war: useless in everything else but combat.”

Lilith slowed her pace and let the two older women tread farther away from her. She was still fascinated by the enigmatic Matron of House Duskreth, but felt like she intrudes on something that wasn’t meant for her to see or hear.

But her curiosity had the better of her, and at the end of the week, before she went back to Barend to take the inventory list he made, she found herself in front of Mother Drisinil’s chambers. The ornate zurkhwood door was shut, and the Matron Mother was nowhere to be seen all day after the guests left. Lilith took a deep breath bracing herself for her grandmother’s possible foul temper, and knocked.

“Come in!” Came Drisinil’s order from inside. Lilith opened the door and entered.

“You again?” Mother Drisinil stared at Lilith with furrowed brows. “What is it this time? Barend needs my presence to confirm that he can roll out from his quarters?”

Lilith suppressed a grin at the mental image of the rotund duergar literally rolling out from his chambers into the treasury, and shook her head.

“I just wished to talk with you, Mother Drisinil.” She answered.

The older drow rolled her eyes and sat down on her favourite armchair, gesturing for Lilith to take a seat as well.

“I assume you want to ask about the strange and abrupt visit from House Duskreth, correct?”

Lilith nodded.

“I know it is not my concern, but I’m curious.”

Drisinil chuckled.

“Aren’t you a little too nosy? Very well, I shall indulge you. Ask a question, and I may answer.”

Lilith’s eyes flared up with excitement and she couldn’t decide what to ask first. She had many questions, but decided that she will only ask a few, to avoid testing Drisinil’s patience.

“House Duskreth… Are they allies of ours?”

Drisinil flashed a painful smile at her granddaughter.

“Once they were. Now it’s not sure. Allegiances shift from time to time, as opportunity rises. Now that Gladiola is back in this plane of existence, she’ll take back the reins of her own House, which may present yet another opportunity. We’ll see I guess.”

Lilith nodded.

“And what’s the deal with Mother Gladiola? Where has she been?”

“I know only what she was willing to share, and it was few.” Drisinil raised her brow and her stare wandered to the small table next to her chair, onto a small trinket. “Back then, a hundred years ago we battled a third House together. It doesn’t matter now why the fighting erupted, for our House was victorious. But the Matron of the losing House summoned a powerful demon lord, and it posed a challenge Galdiola couldn’t resist. She attacked the demon lord, and it dragged her with it into the Abyss.”

Drisinil sighed and turned back to Lilith.

“It pained me to see her go. I knew her for the hot-headed fool she was, and adored her for her pride, but foolish is an understatement of what I wanted to call her actions then. After that battle, everyone believed her to be lost forever.”

“But now she’s back. Are you sure she is who she claims to be?” Lilith couldn’t help but ask.

“You are a child after my own heart.” Drisinil complimented her “Of course my first thought seeing my former lover dismounting that feral beast she always rode instead of a housebroken lizard, was that “this is probably not her”. I cast spells on her that would tell me if she was a demon in disguise, and the spells gave negative results.” She picked the trinket up from the small table.

“I always wear this talisman.” Drisinil let the small token dangle from her fingers “It wards off demons and their attempts at charming. If Gladiola was a demon masquerading as a drow, I would know about that. But now that I know she is indeed who she claims to be, I am more concerned than if she were a mere succubus.”

“Why is that?” Lilith kept her eyes on her grandmother’s face. Drisinil seemed to age a decade over the course of the few days House Duskreth spent in House Drisraen’s hospitality.

“You do know that many of our House’s holdings and a lot of our territory once belonged to House Duskreth?” She shook her head. “Foolish me, how would you know, when you weren’t even born when these treaties were made…”

She stood up and went to her desk, opening a drawer and returning with a few sheets of parchment she handed over to Lilith to read.

“It says here House Duskreth sold those lands and assets to us.” She looked up perplexed.

“They did, yes.” Drisinil nodded “But only because I could trick Leriana into signing these papers. The poor girl is indeed a genius strategist and an excellent soldier, but a very poor substitute for her mother.”

Lilith wondered how Drisinil could trick someone admittedly so intelligent into signing a contract that put her in a disadvantage while giving the contractor free reign over some holdings and other belonging of House Duskreth. She once again admired her grandmother’s wits.

“And now that she’s taking back her seat of power” Drisinil concluded “I fear Gladiola might want these assets and holdings back. But we can't afford to part with them. And if my dear once-friend didn’t change, she’ll declare war on us, and take them by force.”

“Not if I can help it!” Lilith exclaimed. “See, this is an excellent reason for me to bring as much gold as I can back to our treasury. Maybe if I succeed, we can give back House Duskreth their former holdings as an act of goodwill, while ensuring our own House isn’t hurt financially by it.”

“Interesting thought.” Drisinil admitted. “But right now it is not more than speculation. The contract was made a century ago, and House Duskreth waged many wars they eventually won in the meantime, and got the spoils of it to boost their own treasury. They might not even want their old assets back.”

Lilith put the documents down on the small table.

“May I ask a final question before I return to my duties?”

Drisinil gestured for her to go ahead. Lilith leaned back and cocked her head to the side.

“How did the two of you meet? Our House resided in Ennriel a century ago…”

Drisinil leaned back in her seat as well, reminiscing about that first encounter.

“Correct, our House reigned in Ennriel, but we had holdings and warehouses in nearly all cities from here to Ched Nasad. We tried to expand our reach to the North further, but found no safe trade route… But I digress. I met Gladiola while I was on a business trip in Sshamath. She took me off my feet immediately, but I was always cautious. Instead of establishing a new holding in the City of Wizards, I arranged with Gladiola a trade agreement. House Duskreth provided us with labour force and various rare metals, and bought our alchemist’s creations. You see, we did expand our trading in the following decades, both in terms of variety and distance.”

She smiled and stood up again, pacing slowly around the room.

“Before Ennriel’s fall, Gladiola would visit me every now and then, when her duty allowed. I did spend a few tendays here in Zeberra before as well, on business, or later to visit her. This is why after our home city fell to the rebels, I brought the remains of my House here.”

Lilith nodded.

“Thank you for clarifying this to me, Mother Drisinil.”

“It was a pleasure, child.” The Matron smiled. “But off with you now, I have stayed in the past enough, it’s time to focus on the present.”

Lilith bowed and left her grandmother’s chambers. Arriving to Barend’s office, she heard a loud dispute.

“These things are mine, you can’t sell them!” Lilith heard Allindra’s shrill voice demanding the duergar’s attention.

“I am terribly sorry, mistress Allindra.” Barend’s tired voice answered. “But as far as my knowledge of inter-family disputes and relations go, you are exiled. Therefore, you are no longer in a position to make demands or lay claims to any and all items in House Drisraen’s inventory.”

Before Allindra could reply, Lilith stepped inside the duergar’s office.

“Hello there, dear aunt!” she greeted the other priestess “Is there something wrong?”

Allindra picked up a small statuette and shook it in Lilith’s direction.

“These are my belongings!” She wailed. “You have no right!”

“You’re wrong.” Lilith stated calmly. “I have every right to sell whatever in the nine hells I want to, because Mother Drisinil said so. She gave your quarters, your clothes, your trinkets, any and all belongings to _me_. Good thing it didn’t involve your spouse and sons, for I swear I’d put them up for sale if I had to!”

“No!” Allindra protested and clutched the statuette to her heart. “I won’t allow it!”

Lilith burst out laughing.

“Won’t allow it? You poor thing, you don’t get it, do you? These are no longer yours, but mine to do whatever I want with. And I will sell them to the highest bidder.”

None of the arguing parties was aware of Vimora slithering into the small office until she finally began to speak.

“My sister is right. You shouldn’t be able to sell what is not yours.”

Lilith rolled her eyes.

“Great. You have backup.”

“Of course she has.” Vimora raised her voice. “I will not let you take everything from her and bleed this House dry to feed your delusion of grandeur.”

“Here we go again!” Lilith sighed in frustration. “I think I told you enough time that I will bring back more wealth with me from my expedition, but it seems to me that you just don’t care. And I’m tired. This discussion is over.”

She turned to Barend.

“Sell everything in that chest to Matron Ryen’Thar! I heard she loves kitschy statuettes and skimpy clothes.”

“This is not over, Lilith!” Vimora warned her niece “I will go to Mother Drisinil, and see to it that you’ll repay Allindra for what you stole from her!”

“For the last time, I did not “steal” anything from her!” Lilith screamed. “You were there too, you both know that I have the right to sell my own belongings, and this is getting ridiculous.”

She turned around and fled the scene, silently pondering if her “strategical retreat” was the right thing to do.

* * *

Adriel just got out of the practice ring and was undressing to take a bath when the door to his quarters flung open and Vimora marched in. The warrior tied the laces of his trousers back before he turned towards the priestess.

“ _Yathtallar._ ” Adriel greeted his mother indifferently.

“I heard you were out in town with one of your cousins the other day.” Vimora commented, averting her eyes from her son.

“So?” Adriel wasn’t in the mood for talking. Especially not with his mother.

“What did he tell you about Lilith and her heretical ideas about conquering the surface world?”

Adriel started to laugh, but he stopped, seeing Vimora’s serious expression.

“Wait, you seriously think any of them shared their plans with me?” He queried “Forgive me, _yathtallar_ , but that’s laughable.”

Vimora lashed out and squeezed her fingers around Adriel’s throat.

“Do not make the grave mistake of back-talking to me, boy.” She growled. “They don’t share their plans with you? Then make them! Find out what that little backstabbing daughter-of-a-goblin is up to, so I can ruin her just like I did with her mother!”

She let Adriel go and turned her nose up.

“And for the cold love of a yochlol, wash yourself! You stink.”

She stormed out of Adriel’s quarters, slamming the door shut. The warrior finally dared to draw breath. He did exactly what he planned to before Vimora barged in – took a bath. The hot water relaxed his muscles and eased his mind, but he knew he has to find a way to fulfil Vimora’s orders. His thoughts ran wild and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to organize them and find a suitable plan to infiltrate the tight-knit alliance of the siblings, when he heard a noise. The door creaked open then closed. Not violently like when Vimora marched through their living quarters, but much like when someone doesn’t want to be seen or heard. Adriel tensed in his place, still pretending to be in Reverie, but then he heard a distinctive frustrated sigh, the sound of clothes being thrown across the washroom, and someone else entered the pool he was occupying. He opened his eyes and noticed Zathriel had a new tattoo. The weapons master lowered himself into the steaming water and leaned back. The small wince and his exhausted features told Adriel that his parents had a rough night. Again.

“You know, soon you’ll run out of free space on your skin.” Adriel prodded the weapons master.

“It is a sign of virtue.” Zathriel replied, but for the younger drow it felt like he was reciting something he had to repeat until he believed it.

“Miss me with that _rothe-iblith_.” He grinned derisively. “Carving patterns into your flesh with fluorescent spider venom is only a sign of vanity, and it’s not a virtue.”

“Oh, because _you_ would know everything about virtue.” Zathriel rolled his eyes.

“No, I do not.” Adriel shrugged “But I know a pointless flash of wealth and status when I see it.”

“Pointless he says…” Zathriel laughed bitterly. “Showing off your wealth and status is just as necessary as being skilled with a sword, and you better get that into your thick skull, lad.”

“From where I’m standing, unless she plans to parade your bare ass all over fair Zeberra, no one else will ever see the intricate swirls of slightly glowing crimson venom etched into you, but Vimora.”

Adriel’s remark earned a hard glare from the weapons master.

“You don’t have the slightest of ideas about what you’re saying.” He rubbed his face with his wet hand. “And have no doubt, she would "parade my bare ass all over Zeberra” if she wished. This is how it is.”

“It shouldn’t be.” The younger drow snapped.

“And who is going to change it? You?” Zathriel laughed again. “Don’t be a fool.”

Adriel remained silent. He found that he was conflicted between wanting things to change and wanting to fit into the role cast on him by society a long time ago. Zathriel wasn’t a good example for him, with his bitterness and his suppressed rage over his own misery. Rage he gladly let loose on people not of his status but lower. Servants, soldiers, or Adriel. Whatever and whoever was unlucky to be present. Adriel might have had some foolish delusions of camaraderie with his biological father when he was a child, but it faded the moment he was assigned under training with him.

“I leave you to your soaking.” He finally spoke after a long pause. He stood up and went to fetch his towel he instantly wrapped around himself before leaving the washroom.

* * *

Shar’Nadal played with one of his throwing daggers while leaning to the wall. His sister and Vimora had another debate just a few feet away. He cast a sympathetic glance at Adriel, who just entered the throne room, and his eyes grew wide when he noticed the approaching form of the Matron Mother behind the warrior. Neither Vimora nor Lilith seemed to notice Mother Drisinil entering and occupying her seat. She leaned back, cocked her head to the side and supported it with her hand. The pointless shouting match about selling Allindra’s – now officially Lilith’s – trinkets and some of her clothing items continued to rise in volume. Adriel rubbed his temples and leaned to the wall just a bit to the right of Shar’Nadal.

“It never going to end.” The warrior sighed in frustration. The rogue gave a nod then went back to mind his own business.

Milifae also watched and listened to her mother berating Lilith and her “heretical and crazy obsession”, and waited for Mother Drisinil to act. Allindra wasn’t present, for servants could not enter the throne room while the Matron Mother was awake, meaning it had to be cleaned while the rest of the household slept.

Shar’Nadal spotted Zathriel and even Barend entering the throne room, which meant there’s something important about to happen. He wasn’t disappointed.

Having heard enough of her relatives’ bickering, Mother Drisinil stood up and shouted. Her voice was magically enhanced, and got louder and louder until finally everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at her.

“Silence!” The Matron Mother ordered. “What are you thinking?”

The question was directed at Vimora.

“Mother Drisinil, what Lilith is about to do…” the priestess began to explain but Drisinil interrupted her.

“I _sanctioned_ what she wants to do.” It took a lot of effort on Drisinil’s behalf not to resort to screaming like her descendants did. “Who do you think you are, to question my will?”

“Score one for grandma’.” Shar’Nadal mumbled.

“I apologise, Mother Drisinil.” Vimora bowed. “I couldn’t be sure about _yathtallar_ Lilith’s claims of doing what you wished her to. I know now I should have believed her.”

Not one to be easily fooled by cheap tricks, Drisinil crossed her arms in front of her.

“Child, how are your preparations going?” she turned to Lilith.

“Badly, Matron Mother.” Lilith cast a venomous glance at her aunt. “ _Yathtallar_ Vimora and our servant Allindra conspired against me to stop me, and caused me significant damage. Their actions set me back by at least a month.”

She overestimated the damage and the delay, but she knew some form of punishment is about to be dished out to Vimora, so she hoped it will be at least something worth the frustration.

“I see.” Drisinil frowned and turned back to Vimora. “Your actions caused harm to our House.”

The other priestess swallowed a knot and her skin faded to grey.

“Forgive me, Mother Drisinil.” She begged.

“Do you know me as one forgiving?” Drisinil flashed a predatory grin at her. “But you are lucky.”

She turned towards the rest of the gathering and spoke.

“We might face a common enemy of our House. I have been – as you all probably know – visited by the Matron of House Duskreth, and she brought me some grave news.”

Milifae went closer and stopped next to her mother. Adriel and Shar’Nadal exchanged glances, while Zathriel frowned and shook his head. Barend went over to Drisinil and handed a scroll to her.

“As this intercepted letter says, my long-time rival, Matron Jyslin of House Teriyados has gathered allies and plans to attack our House.” she held the scroll up for everyone to see. “If the eleventh House is indeed plans an invasion, we have to set aside personal arguments, and work together to repel them, and crush them under our heel.”

All of them could agree on that. Drisinil continued.

“To prevent further infighting, I ordered the servants to prepare a little party for us. After all, we are going to celebrate tonight.”

Vimora furrowed her brow along with Lilith.

“What are we going to celebrate?” the younger priestess queried. Mother Drisinil turned to her with a mischievous grin that never reached her eyes.

“Why, your union with your new spouse.”

“What?” Lilith exclaimed.

“What?” the rest of the household exclaimed after her.

For all her life, Lilith feared the day when she’ll have to escort her brother to leave him to the care of another female. She would never in her darkest nightmare think that one day she will be the one given away to another drow like some sort of trinket.

“You heard me, child.” Drisinil snapped. “To make sure there is no more infighting in our House, a union is required.”

“And who’s the lucky male?” Vimora inquired with a smug grin.

“Your son.” came the curt answer, making her expression turn from smug to slack-jawed.

“You mean Adriel?” Vimora pressed out.

“Yes, unless you have another son I don’t know about.” Drisinil quipped.

“Do I have a say in it?” Adriel yelled from the background.

“No, you don’t!” All three priestesses turned to him in unison.

“Come forward, lad!” Drisinil beckoned him “Hold Lilith’s hand! You will be moving to her quarters, and fulfil her every wish and order to your best abilities. If you fail, she will do to you as she pleases without repercussions. Do you understand?”

Adriel only nodded, for he was unable to speak from the embarrassment and anger. Lilith held his hand lightly, but he felt her palm was cold and slick with sweat.

“Good.” Drisinil concluded. “All of you go back to your quarters, and prepare for tonight’s celebrations! We will not have neither reason nor means to party for a long time to come!”

Everyone began to scatter from the throne room – Adriel tearing his hand away from Lilith as soon as it was politely possible – leaving only Shar’Nadal and his sister last.

“Lilith!” Drisinil’s voice stopped both of them before reaching the door “Get that expedition moving! You have a tenday.” her voice was serious and her expression grim. “We’ll need everything you can gather from up there!”

* * *

“I would rather die!” Adriel yelled and threw his bag to the wall. “I will not be anyone’s pet, or doormat to rub the dirt off on!”

He continued to throw his belongings and various small blades to the wall, the door and one of the unlucky goblins entering to clean the mess up. Milifae dodged half of a pair of boots flying right towards her face, before entering her brother’s room.

“Would you just calm down, drama queen?” she prodded. “Mother Drisinil ordered it, so there’s nothing you can do. Better get yourself ready and enjoy the party.”

Adriel’s eyes shot lightnings.

“It’s easy for you to speak.” He spat. “You aren’t the one being traded like an animal!”

Vimora entered the room next to her daughter and with the same momentum, she slapped Adriel across the face.

“Quit your blabbering, you ungrateful wretch!” she yelled. “You have been given a boon, and you have the audacity to whine like a babe? Want me to find a trader in the market, who excels in breaking the horns off of arrogant and stupid males like you? Because if you don’t stop your tantrum and get yourself ready for that dinner and what’s to come after, I swear to the Goddess I will!”

“I don’t want to be Lilith’s spouse!” Adriel tried to stand his ground, though he knew how childish and petulant he must sound. Vimora grabbed his hair and shook him.

“No one gives a dead goblin’s ass about what you want!” she screamed into his ear. “Be useful for your family that raised you, and do the only thing you are good for besides being a meat-shield!”

Adriel tried to escape from his mother’s grasp in vain. Tears welled up in his eyes thanks to both the harsh treatment of his scalp and the hurtful words.

“That’s right.” Vimora growled. “You will the best little soldier she could ever find. You’ll let her mount you, fetch her tea, clean her clothes, even lick her feet if she wants it, and if you get close enough, she’ll tell you everything we need to get rid of her. You owe this to us, Adriel.”

She let him go and took a comb from the scattered pile of his belongings, and shoved it into Adriel’s hand.

“Get ready, and be pretty! Make me proud, and you’ll be rewarded!”

She left, with Milifae on her heel. Adriel swallowed his tears and let his anger take over again. He stared at the comb he still clutched and noticed a pair of scissors among the mess. He had an idea.

Zathriel made a surprised face when he saw his son with his new hairdo. Adriel clipped his formerly shoulder-length hair short, and it seemed he was deliberately clumsy doing it.

“’Be pretty’ my ass!” He growled at his reflection. Zathriel chuckled.

“Do you really think it will matter?” He inquired and leaned to Adriel’s door. “She’ll make your life living hell whether she likes your hair or don’t.”

“I’m going to make _her_ life hell.”

“Yes, sure.” Zathriel chuckled condescendingly “Take those snakes right out of her hand, will you?”

Adriel turned to him with still glowing eyes. The weapons master went over and patted him on the shoulder.

“It’s not that bad you know?” he shook the younger male only slightly gentler than Vimora did before. “Lilith is even-tempered. She might not even beat you up that much.”

“Not if I kill her first!”

Zathriel laughed.

“I like your spirit, lad! You got it from your mother.”

Adriel’s face turned sour at the mere thought of having a common trait with Vimora, and he put the scissors and comb away, ruffling his hair one last time before declaring it finished.

“You look like an idiot.” Zathriel commented.

“I must have got it from my father.” Adriel quipped. Zathriel pulled his nose up, pushed him away and left. Adriel had to leave as well. He took one last glance at his near-barren room, the armour stand and the single desk. The small and narrow bed he outgrew years ago, but never got a new one. The cut-off tresses of white hair on the ground in front of the small mirror on the wall. He didn’t feel a thing about the place, but leaving it still caused a pang in Adriel’s heart. He sighed, reminded himself to send the servants for his belongings, and closed the door behind him.

* * *

The dinner party was a sight to behold and a thing to remember both because of the imminent attack of the enemy House, and Adriel’s antics. Lilith indeed was shocked to see him with his tousled and short hair, but much to the warrior’s dismay, she complimented it. Mother Drisinil excused herself early, and left with only a bottle of mushroom brandy and a single loaf of mossbread. Lilith would be concerned about her, but she was otherwise occupied. Vimora and Zathriel bickered about something, she didn’t care. Milifae absent-mindedly played with her drink, and didn’t even touch the food on her plate. A stray spider ran through her hand and she caught it, caressed it with a blank stare and put it down to the floor. Shar’Nadal nibbled on his rothe-steak without much appetite. He wanted to be somewhere else, where the shouting and insult-throwing match of his relatives won’t spoil his mood. Milifae cast a disappointed look at her parents and stood up, leaving everything and everyone behind. Shar’Nadal followed. Vimora dragged Zathriel – who drank too much again – out to the corridor, and Lilith tried hard to ignore the hiss of the snakes on Vimora’s whip and the defiant quips of the weapons master turning to agonized screams.

“Spider-cookies anyone?” Lilith raised the bowl with the spider-shaped biscuits, but none of her relatives wanted any. She saw embarrassment or indifference written on their faces, and clear disgust and badly hidden rage on Adriel’s features.

“I guess I’ll have some myself then.” she sighed. Zathriel’s screaming toned down to loud sobbing, and Vimora’s muffled cursing also could be heard. Adriel stood up and left. Everyone cleared out, leaving only Lilith nibbling on the pastry-spider. Her anxiety grew with every passing second. She wanted to leave as well, but she also didn’t want to go hungry. She sighed, packed Shar’Nadal and Adriel’s food to give them when she gets back to their quarters, and she left as well, leaving the table to be cleaned by the goblins eagerly awaiting leftovers from the drow.

Shar’Nadal stared out of the narrow window in his own quarters, and he heard heavy footsteps and the slamming of a door. He knew it wasn’t his sister, Lilith’s treads were lighter and deliberately slower, like of a prowling cat. He sighed. Adriel then. The rogue felt a tiny semblance of sympathy towards the warrior, for he knew he wouldn’t be happy to be ordered to be someone’s spouse either. Lilith came not much later, and knocked on his door to give him some leftovers from the dinner. Shar’Nadal thanked her but threw the food out of the window for the goblins or fire beetles to have. He heard Adriel arguing with Lilith, and the door slammed open, the warrior storming off.

Shar’Nadal decided to talk with Adriel about his anger, maybe help him find a way to cope with his new situation.

He followed the other male through most of the castle, until he caught him going towards the sparring ring.

“Do you want a partner?”

Adriel turned towards him and looked him over like he saw the rogue for the first time.

“You?” He frowned

“Why, yes. Me.” Shar’Nadal crossed his arms. “Or you don’t think I can stand my ground against you?”

“No, I think you can’t.” Adriel mimicked Shar’Nadal’s posture and tone of voice. “Because you’re a squishy little rat using anything you can get your grubby little hands on.”

“That’s called being resourceful.” The rogue grinned.

“That’s called cheating.” Adriel responded.

“Come on, everyone cheats!” Shar’Nadal spread his arms “That’s the point of the game!”

Adriel turned away from the rogue like he was contemplating his offer.

“Very well…” he shrugged. “If everyone cheats…”

Shar’Nadal didn’t suspect Adriel of attacking, so the handful of dirt thrown to his eyes surprised him. A hard blow landed on his face, breaking his lip and causing him to lose his balance and fall over.

“Pathetic!” Adriel laughed.

“What in the nine hells…?” Shar’Nadal tried to ask but he got a kick into his ribs.

“What do you want from me, huh?” Adriel grabbed Shar’Nadal by his hair and pulled him up to look into his eyes. “Strike me down when I’m not looking? Making it easy for sister dear?”

“I wanted to talk with you…” Shar’Nadal blurted out through his swollen lips and probably loosened teeth.

“We’re talking.” Adriel flashed a crooked, creepy smile at the rogue.

“Could we talk without you hitting me?” Shar’Nadal reasoned, but Adriel just knocked his head to the floor.

“I know you work for your sister, _phindar._ Better tell me now why she sent you after me, so you’ll be spared from future suffering.”

“She did not…” Shar’Nadal mumbled. His nose was broken, and his whole face was painted red by blood. “I already told you, I just wanted to talk with you, to make sure you’re all right.”

Adriel dropped the rogue and stared at him with disgust.

“You’re a weak, sorry excuse for a fighter.” He shook his head and grabbed Shar’Nadal’s neck. “I see now that I was wrong about you. The truth is far worse: a _darthiir_ in our midst!”

Just before he could draw one of Shar’Nadal’s own blades to end his life with it, Lilith appeared next to them.

“Let him go!” She commanded, strengthening her voice with magic. Adriel was compelled to obey, and dropped the other drow. He stared at Lilith with seething hatred and ran.

Shar’Nadal tried to stand up but he felt dizzy, like someone was turning the training grounds every time he tried to move. He found it hard to breathe through his broken nose and swollen face.

“Stay down, idiot!” Lilith warned him then cast a healing spell on him. “What did you do to piss him off so badly?”

“Being related to you is enough it seems.” the rogue quipped.

“Can you stand?” Lilith helped her brother up after he nodded, and patted him on the shoulder. “Good. Go back to your room, and lock the door! I’ll go and catch this madman before he does more damage.”

* * *

She didn’t find him. Not that day, not the other. When she finally caught him the third day, Adriel was beating up a goblin servant for a slice of baked mushroom. She cast the commanding spell again, and stopped the warrior from killing the goblin, which then scurried away with its food as soon as the drow dropped it.

“Enough of this!” Lilith snapped. Adriel showed her a gesture that was in use as an insult throughout the multiverse, and left.

“I’m going to kill you if I find you!” Lilith screamed after the warrior. She didn’t lose sight of him this time. After reaching the servant quarters, Adriel took a turn towards the kitchen – probably still after the goblin with the mushroom – and Lilith was on his trail. She bumped into her aunt, who was about to yell at her for walking over the freshly cleaned floor, but both of them just stared awkwardly at each other for a long while.

“Umm…” Lilith began. Allindra dropped to the floor and bowed.

“ _Yathtallar_ , forgive me for being disrespectful, I didn’t see you coming!”

“It’s all right…” Lilith waved her hand. “Have you seen Adriel? I think he came through here.”

Allindra made a smug face.

“Oh, I did see him pass through.”

“Splendid.” Lilith exclaimed “Where did that son-of-a-goblin go?”

Allindra led her to the cellar door. Lilith began to be suspicious, but after her aunt opened the door, she saw Adriel sitting atop one of the barrels and drinking rootwine straight from the bottle.

“There you are!” Lilith called and the warrior’s face turned towards her.

 _“Rothe-iblith!”_ Adriel hissed and threw the bottle at the priestess.

He missed, hitting only the wall behind Lilith, but both females ducked and left an opening for him to use to escape.

“By the Goddess’ thorax!” Lilith cursed, and tried to grab Adriel, but he was slightly faster, disappearing in the corridor leading to the stables.

Allindra looked after her nephew with glee, thinking about the possible severe punishment he’ll receive for his shenanigans. Lilith sighed exhaustedly.

“May I have a word with you, _yathtallar?”_ Allindra turned to the priestess. Lilith nodded, suddenly losing her previous suspicions about her aunt.

“I heard you have become Adriel’s mistress.” Allindra began to pace around the kitchen.

“Rather he became the bane of my existence.” Lilith replied.

“It seems to me he’s disobedient, and a nuisance.”

“He’s probably mad because no one asked if we want to be together or not.” Lilith shrugged. “Funny thing, but I understand the reason for his anger.”

“Don’t say such a thing!” Allindra warned her. “He needs to be stopped, and contained until he calms down, or we can sic him to our enemies… Although…”

Lilith barely listened, but that pause caught her attention.

“Although what?”

Allindra lowered her head.

“I shouldn’t involve myself in your affairs, _yathtallar_.”

“Out with it!” Lilith snapped impatiently.

“Very well…” Allindra cleared her throat. “You know; I have a spouse of the temperamental type as well. And I found there is actually a pretty sure way to pull a disgruntled male’s venomous fangs out, if you get my meaning…”

* * *

Adriel finally ran out of places to hide. Lilith cornered him behind the stables, pinned him to the wall and stared at him while trying to catch her breath.

“You. Are. Coming. With me.” She panted and her every word once again carried commanding magic. She never let go of Adriel’s arm, not even when he tried to pull her down so he could wrestle himself free. She became angrier, but also her strength was at its last shreds. After the door of their now shared quarters closed behind them, Adriel finally collapsed. He sat in the corner, trying to get as much distance between himself and Lilith as was physically possible. She let him, while bringing a bowl with some water she then used to clean herself up with. She emptied the bowl, brought clean water, and dabbed a piece of cloth in it, cleaning Adriel’s face and hands. He probably expected something else, for he did not move away.

“Would you take those off and clean up before sleep?” Lilith asked. Adriel began to undress like an automaton, not even looking at her. She didn’t want to peek, so she averted her eyes of him.

“Do what you have to, but don’t expect me to move a muscle.” She heard him say after he was done cleaning the three-days old dirt build-up. She turned around. Adriel was sitting next to her, his bare skin still wet from his makeshift bath, and he was closer than Lilith would like.

She reached out and swept a stray, short lock of hair from his brow.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” she assured him.

“Really? Good.” Adriel replied and stood up. Lilith stopped him by taking his hand.

“Please, sit back!” No commanding magic this time. Adriel found himself lowering back next to her regardless.

“Why should I stay?” He asked on a weak voice. “I could be halfway to Sshamath now if you don’t catch up with me.”

Lilith caressed his face.

“I know you’re afraid.” she tried to sound calm and reassuring. “But I’m not your mother, Adriel. You don’t have to run away; I won’t hurt you.”

He knew she was probably lying, but he didn’t want to run anymore. He knew very well that he has no other real choice than play along because if he refuses, he might get punished. Zathriel’s bruises came to his mind, his drunken diatribes always turning into cries for mercy. He didn't want that life. Seemingly out of the blue, he leaned forward and kissed Lilith. He felt her confusion, but also her hand crawling up his chest, and the other getting tangled in his hair. He knew he was caught in her web. He was lost.

On the battlements of the castle, Shar’Nadal tried to measure how far he can throw a pebble before he hits one of the guards, when he heard the alarm signals. His first thought was to run and fetch Lilith, but then he ran towards the guards standing closer to the gate, and peeked out among the two other drow, to see why the alarm was sounded. A group of armed lizard-riders approached, but Shar’Nadal wasn’t afraid. His features lighted up with excitement. The riders stopped at the gates, and Shar’Nadal sprinted down the staircase leading down from the archer’s tower. The Red Dragons finally arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, that was hard. I guess just as hard to read as it was to write, but now we're done with it, and I hereby promise never to do anything like this again (and please don't kill me for the banjo thing, now that you probably get it why I put it in the summary...)
> 
> \- Adriel and Lilith will never sleep together again, not because they see it being wrong - sadly, marriage between close relatives was a thing in our very much real world's nobility even in as near past as in the early 20th century - but because other drow entering the picture for them (Aaaand also because there will be plenty of other disturbing stuff in this fic along the way, tyvm).
> 
> \- I feel pretty bad for Shar'Nadal in this chapter, I won't lie. Also, Lilith can be an arse when she's angry or upset, and that quirk will stay with her to the end, because I feel she's more relatable if some bad characteristics remain in her personality. I planned this whole fic around her character development from a foaming-mouthed, religious-fanatic cartoon-villain to a sensible and maybe a little more sensitive person, but removing all of her negative traits would be unrealistic (I know, I know. "It's fantasy" you cry, but hear me out: even in a fantasy book you need a grain of reality to avoid it being ridiculous and to be relatable).
> 
> \- Fun fact: House Duskreth was actually created by my friend, and is not originally meant for Forgotten Realms, but I thought I include them here, for fun and for fleshing out the Zeberran nobility (a.k.a. "Worldbuilding"). Also, Gladiola is a cool, demonslaying lady-knight, but sadly she's not enirely compatible with DnD lore about drow, hence the brief appearence in this fic. 
> 
> \- Spider anatomy is sooo friggin' different from mammal anatomy I found it hard to wrap my head around how driders work (I still do)... Also fun fact, I had to actually dig up how spider-parts are named in biology. ^^; I had no clue.
> 
> Translations:  
> \- "Iblith" means "sh*t" (or in a more dictionary form "excrement") in drowish, and they call anyone not drow as such as an insult, or as any form of cursing.  
> \- a Rothe is a subterranean animal, kept by the drow as cattle.  
> \- "Aluve" (Or "Aluvé") means "Goodbye" or "I go".  
> \- "Wael" means "fool"  
> \- "Ssinssrigg" means "love" according to "Drow of the Underdark" by Ed Greenwood. (So much for Drizzt claiming drow don't have a word for that...) It also can mean "passion","greed", "lust" or "longing", I guess it depends on context.  
> \- "Phindar" means "monster" or "unintelligent animal", "dangerous creature"  
> \- "Darthiir" means both "surface elf" and "traitor"


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse behind the scenes of the Red Dragon Mercenary company, and a little more planning and internal conflict, because drow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, and thank you for reading!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter are: cursing, non-canon compliant lore elements (a.k.a. headcanons), alcohol abuse, male on male sort-of -smut-scene (really, I get it if it's not your cup of tea. You can start scrolling after seeing a row of asterisks (***) until you see them again, and you'll be spared, for even if it's not very graphic, it's there), violence, referenced torture, toxic customs of a fictional society (I told you, it won't get better), excessive amount of drowish words/sentences (I already warned you guys about it a few chapters back, didn't I? )
> 
> And I have some bad news for you, dear readers: my laptop died, so I don't know when I will be able to update my works now that the only device I have with net connection is my phone. 😅 Also this chapter is only the half of its intended length for the same reason. I'm sorry.

_Kulggen’s pass, one month earlier…_

The orc’s crude battleaxe swooped down and clashed with the drow’s shield. Rizzen held the thick piece of metal back from pushing him to the ground, while stabbing forward with _Rath’arg,_ skewering the orc on the longsword’s mithril blade. As the pressure on his arm eased, he counter-pressed with his shield, sending the dying orc flying several feet away, before turning to face another.

He dodged a spiked club nearly hitting his head, and retaliated with a shield bash and a cut with his sword, forcing the orc to take a few steps back, giving him enough space to repeatedly smash his shield into his attacker’s face.

_“Ilareth, phor dos!”_

Rizzen looked up and found himself face-to-face with an orc archer, standing on the edge of a slope, ready to fire a shot. He raised his shield, but the arrow still cut his face. The drow who warned him – a young scout named Ran’do – returned the shot, forcing the orc to relocate.

“They’re gathering at the old rampart gates.” he reported to Rizzen, while they stood back-to-back, searching the area for more attackers.

“We have to stop them before they get here.” the captain stated “They can’t reach our reinforcements!”

“Understood!” Ran’do nodded. “Forward then?”

Rizzen nodded.

“Cover me!”

He kept on bashing orc heads and stabbing while the scout kept peppering the remaining orcs with arrows. It was no use however, for the orcs outnumbered the mercenaries by the tens. Rizzen spotted a small group of his soldiers, surrounded by enemies and falling one by one. He cursed under his breath and turned towards their direction.

“Take them down!” He ordered the scout, then dashed forward, cutting one of the orcs down before the remaining of the pack turned on him. The soldiers scattered, leaving Rizzen alone with only Ran’do to rain arrows down upon them as backup.

A thundering sound echoed through the enormous cavern, and the former rampart – which gave the name for the pass – broke down, pouring orcs and goblins to all directions. Rizzen felt like time had slowed. They were losing the battle. The enemy outnumbered them already, but with this new army coming, fighting against them seemed absolutely pointless.

“Fall back!” Rizzen pushed Ran’do towards the only trail that seemed free of goblins. He drew breath and let out his voice, issuing the same command to the remains of his troops.

_“Vlos Tagnik’zur, ratha!”_

He pushed the scout forward, only stopping to stab or cut at the fresh batch of orcs and goblins who were more than eager to attack the retreating drow, felling one group after another. He felt a blade slipping through his defences, and cut into his leg, but he shrugged it off as he kept on covering their retreat. Ran’do’s arrows scored another pair of goblin heads, and he ran forward, Rizzen coming only slightly behind him. He dragged the scout into the cover of a large stalagmite, and found a small group of his mercenaries ducking behind the limestone formation only seconds after them.

 _“Ilareth!”_ Another soldier nodded towards Rizzen _“Usstar quarth?”_

“We have to hold on until the reinforcements arrive from Maerimydra.” Rizzen answered “Until then, we have to find a way to hold the _iblith_ back. They can’t sever the route to us, or it will be like Ennriel all over.”

“But how?” Ran’do was eager to prove himself, but he had no mind for battlefield tactics. Rizzen patted him on the shoulder, and turned to the other mercenaries.

“How many of you left?”

The fighter looked back, and counted the other drow crouching behind him.

“With this five good-for-nothing crooks and myself, we have the soaring number of six.”

 _“Vith.”_ Rizzen cursed. “Well, whatever happens, I don’t want to go back to Rezz’nar and have to tell him that the orcs got so far up in our asses that we probably won’t be able to walk properly for a tenday.”

Orcs roared something on their crude language. Rizzen caught a few words, but it was nothing unusual. Death of their enemies, the gruesome feast they will have after they dismembered them, and the like. He peeked out from his cover to measure the battlefield, looking for a spot they can seize and hold until the army from Maerimydra arrives.

“Sergeant, how many of your soldiers are proficient with a crossbow?” Rizzen didn’t bother to sign, he knew the orcs are preoccupied with working themselves up for the next fight. He turned towards the warrior, who sneaked closer, and now occupied a spot next to Ran’do.

“All of us are good with a crossbow, _Ilareth.”_

“Excellent.”

“What are we gonna do?” Ran’do inquired.

“See that spot over there, above the shaman and the war drum?” Rizzen inclined his head towards the marks he mentioned. “We need to get there, and fast. After we occupy our positions, we can shoot the orcs without them having a means to corner us. We just have to hold on until reinforcements arrive.”

“Easier said than done.” One of the soldiers sighed. “I ran out of bolts, and couldn’t snatch any from Gelroos when he fell.”

“Then use whatever you have!” Rizzen shrugged. “Either we get to safety and wait for reinforcements, or stay here until the orcs discover us, and defeat us by sheer numbers. I’d rather hide where they can’t reach me.”

The soldiers exchanged glances, and the sergeant forwarded Rizzen’s orders to the rest of the team. It was now or never.

“On my mark, follow my lead, and we may survive this ordeal.” the captain hoped. “Ready…”

The small group of drow rushed through the sea of orcs, clotting the tunnels leading out of the cavern. They almost made it before the war drum began to beat, and the orcs began to turn up every stone they found. The mercenaries split up, trying to get close to the cliff edge Rizzen marked for them to climb and use as base. If only they could have a little more time…

But Fate was just as cruel a thing as the Spider Queen, and Rizzen’s band of mercenaries had to fight tooth and nail to survive the onslaught of orcs, frenzied and lusting for blood.

He lost sight of the sergeant and the five other drow, only Ran’do stayed at his side, even after he ran out of arrows, and clumsily tried to defend himself with a short sword. Rizzen fought to save him as much as he fought for his own survival, but the enemy was too strong in numbers. If he killed one, two other came, and they kept on pressing the dark elves back inside the cavern, farther from the tunnels.

Ran’do yelped behind him, and he turned to cut the scout’s opponent down, but he saw the other drow fall to the ground. An orc with a nasty looking, serrated halberd grinned at Rizzen, shook the blood from his weapon, and rushed at him. He dodged the attack, only to feel a strong bite of pain in his lower right leg, where the other orc hit him before. The wound began to bleed through the fabric of his trousers and boots, making his foot soaked in blood and his stance wobbly. Orcs came and surrounded him, and despite his best efforts to keep them from getting behind him, he felt the sting of a knife through his armour, and heard the orcs laughing as he spun on his heels to skewer whoever tried to stab him, only to have his bottom pierced with a spear from the other direction.

This dance macabre didn’t last long before the orc with the halberd came back, and threw his brethren from his way. Rizzen was still fighting, but both of his legs were shaking, he lost his shield somewhere, had a multitude of bleeding wounds, and was clearly at the end of his stamina. The orc grumbled something on his guttural language, to which Rizzen answered with spitting bloody saliva on the ground, and hissing _“Doer sinjin elghinn!”_ before leaping at the orc with a defiant battlecry. He felt the barbed edges of the halberd’s blade tearing at his flesh, before he planted _Rath’arg_ in the orc’s heart. The halberdier fell on his back, pulling Rizzen along. He let go of his sword, which became too heavy to bear, staggered, and collapsed to the ground, knowing he did what he could. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, as he drew what he became sure were his last breaths. He heard the orcs clamouring and the war drums beating, but his heart’s rhythm dictated a much slower pace.

He didn’t know how much time later, another drow looked down on him, and pressed something into one of his wounds. He didn’t have the strength to cry out loudly, but he managed a faint groan.

“This one’s alive!” the unknown drow reported to his companions. Another came, pulled at Rizzen’s eyelids and tapped his neck, right under his ears, and swatted his comrade’s shoulder.

“He has a ranking signal. Put him on the cart!”

Rizzen turned his head slightly to see his surroundings. He stared at Ran’do’s pale, blank face, and his half-closed eyes. He saw that he was still breathing, yet he couldn’t move or speak, to tell the drow sweeping through the battlefield about the scout. Right after they put him on his own shield to carry away, he saw a soldier with a longsword stopping above the boy.

“Hey, this one’s breathing as well!” he called out.

“Is he an officer or just a recruit?”

The unknown drow lifted Ran’do’s cloak to see if he had any signs of office.

“Nah, common recruit.”

“Slit his throat then!”

Rizzen wanted to scream, to stop them, or at least to look away, but he couldn’t. His own body betrayed him, and forced him to watch as a nameless foot-soldier from Maerimydra kills the helpless scout. He lost consciousness when his handlers threw him onto a cart rather carelessly, but before he did, he heard the soldier who ordered Ran’do to be killed say

“Have a nice trip back to Zeberra, _captain._ ”

* * *

_Red Dragon mercenary compound, Zeberra Outskirts, present day..._

Kimaryon strutted through the training grounds looking for someone. His peacock-blue sleeveless coat was in contrast with the trainees’ black and red uniform, and he got curious looks from all over. He rarely ventured out from his quarters, usually only when on-duty, so the soldiers and labourers began to whisper behind his back. Kimaryon just flashed a disarming smile at them and went on his way. He found both of the drow he was looking for, assessing and briefing the new recruits the company gathered in the past month. They lost quite a lot of their troops in their last assignment, so Rezz’nar made it clear that he needs the new soldiers thoroughly educated and practiced before he will let them out to the field. That also meant triple workload for the senior members of the company. Most of them weren’t happy, but Kimaryon personally didn’t mind it. He loved it when there was enough work to keep his wits sharp and occupied. As the family motto went in the wizard’s former House, “Boredom is the worst enemy of an intelligent mind”.

He stopped near the crowd of trainees and his fellow officers, occupying an empty barrel’s lid while he waited for the briefing (and as he listened to Rizzen’s words, the propaganda) to finish. Kimaryon spared a glance at the new soldiers, was slightly dejected by the fact most of them were barely older than two decades, and turned his gaze back to his fellow mercenary officer.

It was widely known that Rizzen spent a lot of time training and mingling with the soldiers assigned under his care, and he was meticulous about keeping an eye on them and their behaviour at all times. Most of these drow were from the “rebellious youth” of the population, so it was crucial to remind them to never overstep their boundaries when dealing with priestesses or some sort of nobility of non-drow origin. He also tried hard to beat out the xenophobia and racism most of these young drow were taught to have since they were children from them. Kimaryon found it to be a near-impossible task, but Rizzen wasn’t one to refuse a challenge. Kim found his stubbornness adorable.

To be fair, Kimaryon found everything about Rizzen adorable. He was fascinated with him ever since they were classmates in the single year they spent together in Zeberra’s Academy of Arcane Arts. He crossed his legs and watched the captain talk with the recruits, ask questions about them, and sort them out to smaller groups based on if they have magical talents – making them Kim’s problem later – or if they are proficient with swords and other blades. Rezz’nar valued his troops regardless of occupation, but in drow society, a magic user – any magic user – was held in much higher esteem than a mere swordsman. So Rizzen made it his duty to know the names of each and every one of his subordinates, even pieces of their history they were willing to share, because he tried to form a bond these drow could never have otherwise, and his soldiers usually tolerated this quirk, if not respected him for it.

The magically-inclined recruits were taken away by another wizard under Kim’s command, who cast a curious look at his superior, but otherwise made no comment on his way to the fortress. Kimaryon turned back at the captain, who asked a couple of recruits about their past experiences, and from what Kim heard, the stories the boys told vexed him.

“Look at me!” Rizzen walked slowly in front of the rows of the would-be mercenaries, pointing a finger at the silvery scar-tissue dividing his face. “This is what you get for standing up for yourself.” One of the boys swallowed his tears, another’s eyes lighted up with anger.

“This is what you get for saying no.” Rizzen stopped and stayed silent for a moment before continuing.

“But never let it stop you from demanding to be treated with respect!” They didn’t expect his speech to take this turn, he could tell by looking at them.

“You’re not weapons! You’re not objects! You’re not goods to buy and sell!” He swallowed and held his head high. “You are people. You’re more than just a body to fuck or beat or kill or left for dead, you don’t deserve this!”

One of the young recruits balled his hand into a fist, and raised it above his head, shouting “Break the cycle!” Soon others joined in with him, chanting the catchphrase with sometimes adding “Join the Dragons!”

“You are warriors! Scouts! Soldiers!” Rizzen went on when the din got lower. “But you are valued here for who you are, and not for what you can do. The Red Dragons are your true family from now on!”

The recruits cheered but some of them weren’t convinced yet, it was clear from the disbelief written on their faces.

“If you join us, you will have proper training.” Rizzen began to pace as he spoke “Those who fail their tests will be assigned for office duty or labour. We don’t kill you for not fitting into a role, we find one you can fulfil.” He paused again, looking at the expressions of the recruits in front of him, and he saw nearly everything in the scale from childlike awe to bitter scepticism.

“You all will serve under me, and report to me” he said firmly “or my petty officer Rylith, in case I’m not available.”

He gestured towards the young drow, already towering over most priestesses and many of his fellow mercenaries, having inherited his father’s rather intimidating physique. Rezz’nar had his own offspring serve under his soldiers for teaching him the importance of unity and to know his own troops. A sentiment Rizzen shared wholeheartedly, so he did his best not to treat the commander’s son with favour.

“Fall in, and return to your quarters!” he finished “Dismissed!”

Rizzen watched over as the recruits went back to their daily routines, and only sensed someone else’s presence when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, well… Keep it up, and I will have a lot of competition!” Kimaryon jested, leaning on his friend. Rizzen smiled and shook his head.

“Nah. I don’t think they even believed what I told them.” he waved his hand dismissively. The wizard raised his brow.

“You really didn’t see the same lads I did. They fell in love. Whether with you or the company is up for debate.” He replied, making the captain emit a soft laughter.

“And what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you in my humble training yard?” Rizzen inquired, cocking his head to the side and looking at Kimaryon with an equally playful and inquisitive gaze.

“I came on the behest of our esteemed leader. He wants to see you.” Kim answered while playing with a strand of Rizzen’s hair the warrior removed from his vicinity as soon as the wizard began to curl it around his fingers.

“I guess I’ll have to go then.”

There was a brief moment of silence between them the wizard broke by slapping the captain’s pauldrons.

“Fancy a walk?” He inquired and Rizzen nodded. The two of them left the training yard and stopped in a small grove of giant mushrooms. Kimaryon leaned to one of the thick trunks grinning like a cat that just ate the mouse.

“You know, you shouldn’t downplay the impact you have on young and displeased drow, captain Kazzaren.” He said. Rizzen occupied a spot next to his friend and looked back towards the fortress, where the fresh soldiers were heading to.

“I hate lying to them…” he sighed. Kimaryon playfully swatted his arm.

“Lying to them? In what sense?” the wizard laughed. “You know, today I saw one of your older recruits, a scout I think.” he went on, pulling out a flask of rootwine and offering it to Rizzen.

“Oh dear…” the warrior sighed and drank from the flask.

“I shit you not! And you know what? That scout was so fresh he just sat in front of old Houndaer, getting his own dragon inked into his biceps, and grinned like mad through his tears.” Kim explained enthusiastically.

“I bet the boy was just gritting his teeth.” Rizzen laughed. “I know I did. Even if I was drunk as the mother of all fucks, getting my dragon hurt like the bite of a snake-whip.”

“The lad was proud, Rizz.” Kim nudged his friend, his voice suddenly losing all humour. “Proud that now he was a full-fledged member of our company. And it was in part, thanks to you.”

The image of Ran’do came to the captain’s mind. Eager to get his tattoo that would mark him as a full member of the mercenary company, hanging on Rizzen’s every word, enthusiastically. Then the memory of the spry young archer got replaced with the dirty, ashen-grey face of a barely breathing, dying thing as the blade of the Maerimydran soldier slices his throat open, severing the silver cord keeping him on the Material Plane.

“You overestimate me, Kim.” Rizzen shook his head and gave the flask back to the wizard, rootwine suddenly tasting bitter on his tongue. “We better go now, if Rezz’nar wants to see us all so badly. It might be important.”

The warrior turned to leave and the wizard followed shortly. They picked up Rylith as well on the way to the building Rezz’nar occupied and used as both his office and his living quarters. Before the trio entered through the door Lilith and her company did barely more than an hour ago, Kimaryon grabbed Rizzen’s arm and pulled him back, letting Rylith’s large frame disappear inside before speaking.

“Come see me in my quarters after we’re done!” the pleading tone caught Rizzen off-guard.

“Is there something wrong?” he squinted in suspicion. Kimaryon shook his head.

“No, it’s just…” he sighed and slowly eased his grip on the other drow. “I just want to talk with you… In private.”

Rizzen nodded.

“Very well. But let’s go inside now, don’t keep Rezz’nar waiting.”

* * *

The commander’s quarters became crowded after all three of the captains and the two bodyguards occupied their spaces around the war table. Rezz’nar stuck tiny pins into locations of interest, and debated with Rizzen and Kimaryon for about an hour before agreeing on the details.

“House Drisraen wants a quick route to the surface, hopefully leading to a ruin or something.” Kim poked one of the pins on the map.

“This one here leads to a cave near Myth Drannor.” Rizzen pointed at another one. “If it didn’t collapse because of the demons.”

“It collapsed.” Kim shrugged. “I did some scrying the other day, when you said some poor ninnies want to go topside, and willing to hire us as escorts.”

Rezz’nar took the pin from the Myth Drannor tunnel off of the map.

“This one here.” He pointed at another route “Where does this lead?”

“Maerimydra.” Rizzen shuddered.

“Oh, indeed.” Rezz’nar pinned the location. “The city where you managed to lose a whole army.”

Rizzen clenched his jaw and looked back at the map.

“I am aware that it wasn’t entirely your fault.” Rezz’nar commented. “If that would be the case, you wouldn’t be standing here now.”

Rylith pointed at another pin, just a little bit east of Zeberra.

“Where does this one lead?”

“Actually we could use that.” Kim pondered. “Close enough to the city so the supply carts won’t take tendays to follow, and it leads to a fairly remote part of Cormanthor.”

“I doubt the priestess would want to gather wood or berries.” Rizzen deadpanned.

“I can show you what’s there, I just need my mirror.” Kim shrugged.

“Bring it!” Rezz’nar nodded. Kim bowed and left, one of the bodyguards in tow to help him carry the large silver mirror he mainly used for preening, but occasionally repurposed it for scrying locations of interest.

There was a long pause before Rezz’nar addressed Rizzen again.

“Pick those of your troops who have been on the surface at least once!”

Rizzen nodded.

“Karissa will help me collect the appropriate personnel.”

“Good.” Rezz’nar didn’t even look up from the map. “And if you take a friendly advice: Don’t fail me this time. I might not be so forgiving as I was after Maerimydra.”

Rizzen swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I won’t fail!” He vowed.

“We shall see.” Rezz’nar grumbled. Kim returned with the mirror and placed it in the middle of the room, casting the spell and gathering his comrades to see what was above the tunnel they wanted to use. Bright light shone through the glass, blinding the six drow circling the mirror. After Kimaryon added a few more words to the spell, the light became dimmer, only a minor nuisance for their sensitive eyes.

“Wow. Trees, trees, more trees, there’s a rock, there’s some more trees, some furry animal that’s eating another furry animal…” Kim gave commentaries on the scenery in his mirror for the rest of his companions. “If you bring her here you can leave her, and no one will ever find her without divine guidance.” He concluded, turning to Rizzen.

“Sounds good, but her family won’t pay up if we “accidentally” kill her.”

“Are you sure?” Kim furrowed his brow. “I bet a disgruntled brother or sister, or some other blood-bound would be glad to be rid of her.”

“I’m sure about that” Rizzen deadpanned “but she’ll pay for escorting her to an expedition.”

“Take her through Lake Thoroot and use the passage that opened there recently!” Rylith suggested.

Rizzen shook his head

“I’m not going near that place!”

Rylith snickered

“Coward.”

“Just cautious.” Rizzen cast a flat look at the younger drow. “We don’t know what caused the collapse that opened the passage to the surface there. It can be a trap, or a creature we’re currently under-equipped to defeat.”

“Taking a peek won’t hurt though.” Kim added.

“I leave it to the commander then.” Rizzen shrugged and turned to Rezz’nar.

Rezz’nar swept the image of the forest in Kim’s mirror away, breaking the spell.

“Show me what’s around Lake Thoroot!”

Kim cast another spell, and they all crowded around the mirror again. The underground lake lay silent and unbothered in the darkness, but even through the looking glass the spectators felt a certain sense of dread.

The strange creature clawing out Kim’s magical eye thus ending the spell, came as a surprise.

“Fine! We’re not going near Lake Thoroot.” Rezz’nar stated, unflinched by the unexpected strike against them.

“Thank Lolth!” Kimaryon grumbled, while rubbing the back of his head he hit on the wall when he jumped away from the mirror.

“You all right?” Rizzen asked the wizard.

“No?” came the answer

“That’s not a question you should answer with a question.” Rylith furrowed his brow, inserting himself into the conversation.

“I am aware, also my head hurts from that thing attacking my spell. So no, I’m not _vithin_ all right.”

“Kim! Language!” Rizzen scolded the mage.

“Why, you want me to say it in Common? Or maybe I could try Fiendish. That would sound more terrifying.”

Rizzen sighed.

“You're unbelievable.”

“ _Vith’os!”_

Rezz’nar began to lose his patience.

“You two can _vith_ each other to the Nine Hells and back after we’re done with our job, but until then shut up and focus!”

“Sorry!” Kim rolled his eyes without a hint of remorse.

“So, it’s safe to say we won’t be travelling through the lake, or the nearby tunnels.” Rizzen crossed his arms. “That leaves only one place.”

“Veriol’s Fall.” Rezz’nar sighed.

“Now that the intrepid treasure hunters of House Drisraen cleared it from the dragon, it should be safe to travel.” Kim commented while he steadied the mirror against himself, trying to move it back to his quarters.

“Through the tunnels leading out from Zeberra, through the dragon’s lair and over the plains, until you reach the creek with the fluorescent fish.” Rezz’nar traced Rizzen’s future route with his finger on the map. “Turn left then, and go until you reach the empty mines of the duergar. Use the device they left, and you’ll be up in Cormanthor.”

Rizzen nodded, memorizing the map.

“I will need a copy.” He pointed at the piece of parchment.

Rezz’nar turned towards Kim, who shook his head.

“Hae'draun is the one with the outstanding drawing skills, not me.” He would shrug, but the mirror was too heavy. Rezz’nar sighed and cast a pointy look at Rylith.

“I go get him.” the younger drow spun on his heel and left the room.

“Now that it’s settled, you are dismissed.” Rezz’nar gestured for his soldiers to leave. Kim muddled with the mirror before disappearing in the corridor, leaving Rizzen and Rezz’nar alone.

“This is your last chance.” The commander warned the captain. “I will not tolerate another failed mission from you!”

Rizzen nodded, albeit sorrowfully. Rezz’nar frowned and exhaled loudly.

“You know very well that I value your loyalty and your skill in battle.” He lectured. “But we can’t afford to lose another contractor. I mean it, Rizzen. If you fail me again, better if you don’t return to the compound.”

“I understand, Commander.” Rizzen saluted and turned to leave. Before he went out the door, he turned back to say

“I’d sooner take my own life than dishonour you again.”

Rezz’nar nodded approvingly, while he hoped that the captain will keep his promise.

"You'll be heading to Castle Drisraen tomorrow at the first cycle. Gather your troops, and see to it that they are well prepared!"

* * *

The two recruits standing guard let him pass without asking what business he has in this part of the compound. Rizzen didn’t stop until he reached Kimaryon’s quarters, in the better part of the former duergar fortress. He knocked on his door, waiting for the wizard to open up.

“Come in!” Kimaryon’s voice sounded from the other side. Rizzen pushed the door and entered the wizard’s domain. 

“You being so cryptic and abrupt about your request of me coming over kept on bothering me, to be honest.” Rizzen stated while he closed the door behind him.

Kimaryon was standing with his bare back towards Rizzen, his trademark sleeveless blue coat thrown to a chair nearby. “Well, you’re here now.” the wizard shrugged. “It means it worked.”

His speech was a bit slurred, and as he turned to face Rizzen, he could see the other male slightly teeter.

“Great. You’re drunk.” The warrior scoffed. “Already.”

“Is there anything else to do here?” Kimaryon grinned, spreading his arms and waving them around the place.

“I’ll come back when you’re sober…” Rizzen turned to the door, but his friend stopped him.

“Wait! I really have to tell you something, and I fear that I will have no other chance after you leave with your company.”

Rizzen turned back to the wizard, and crossed the distance between them with two long strides. He sat down to the chair hosting Kimaryon’s coat.

“I’m here. Tell me what you want then.”

Kim poured another drink for himself and one for his friend. He gave one glass to the captain, and as the fighter emptied it, he studied his features, musing about where to start. Rizzen’s face was still handsome despite the scar that seemed to split it in two, running from his forehead, across his nose-bridge, cutting his lower lip and down to his chin. A grim reminder why it’s not wise to have too much self-consciousness in drow society. It only occurred to Kim now that he probably has several more scars all over his body.

The wizard sighed, and shifted from one leg to another, while he leaned to his desk, standing in front of the warrior, looking down at him.

“I barely believe that you’re still alive after that skirmish at Kulggen’s pass.” he said, prompting Rizzen to frown.

“As a matter of fact I barely believe it as well. To think that it began with a handful of rebelling orcs…”

Kim chuckled mirthlessly. “Those rebelling orcs slew a whole company of our brothers-in-arms. Even Rezz’nar admitted that we had the Goddess’ good favour. Your chances were thin.”

Rizzen turned his face to the fireplace, the flickering embers reflected a glow in his crimson eyes.

“You were badly wounded…” Kim carried on “Or so I heard.”

Rizzen didn’t want to remember it. Not the pain or the adrenaline rush of the orcs surrounding him, taunting him to perform a deadly dance, and not Ran’do’s ashen face, glassy stare locking gazes with Rizzen’s eyes as if blaming him for his untimely death. “Leave the dead buried, Kim.” he commented.

“Sure.” his friend shrugged. “I’m no necromancer.”

Rizzen grinned and shook his head. “I’m really not in the mood for your shitty humour right now.”

Kim reflected his friend’s expression. “But you’re grinning!” he said on a sing-song tone. “I missed you.” he confessed, turning away from Rizzen, who furrowed his brow and raised his head. Kim’s smile came back to his face as he crossed his arms before asking “How long do we know each other, Rizz?”

Rizzen couldn’t help but think back to the calamity that occurred near the end of their first year together in school. It still put a smile on the embittered mercenary’s face.

“We were both sixteen on the day we met. First year in the Academy of Arcane Arts.”

“I still remember the sound of the falling bookcase and the screaming of your instructor.” Kim added darkly, but with the same smile on his face. Rizzen was expelled from the Academy after a nasty fight with his teacher, that ended in physical violence.

“I never did mind leaving the Wizard’s Tower.” Rizzen shrugged. “I was always better with blades.”

The fighter seemed relaxed, leaning to the backrest of the chair he occupied. Kim crossed his legs and poured another round of drinks for them.

“Here’s to the wisdom of the Wizard’s Council.” he toasted, then drank his share of liquor in one go. Rizzen was slowly sipping his, trying to avoid getting drunk. It was quite a hard task in Kimaryon’s company.

“And to the long years of camaraderie and shenanigans we got involved in together.” Kim was a hard worker, and an even harder drinker, and as he was looking at his friend, he felt something else hardening as well. Namely his determination to tell Rizzen something he felt he should have told him long ago.

“So you are to be stationed in Zeberra again?” he asked, just to keep the conversation going. Rizzen nodded.

“As you heard, I will be heading to the estate of House Drisraen with my troops tomorrow.”

Kim scoffed. “Just be careful.”

Rizz grinned. “Why? Afraid one of them Matron Mothers might pick me as her new plaything?”

Kim’s smile faded at the possibility. “It happened once. Didn’t end well.” He stated grimly.

Rizzen laughed. “You worry about me a bit too much, Kim. I’m a warrior. I’m not made of glass.”

Kimaryon pushed himself from his desk and stumbled forward, landing in Rizzen’s lap.

“True, but you aren’t made of metal either… Despite the feeling.” he knocked on his friend’s breastplate. For a moment, Kim was playing with the thought of Rizzen’s bare skin under his hand, and it made his grin even wider.

“Are you ever taking this thing off?” he asked. The fighter chuckled.

“No, unless I’m ordered to.”

“Well, too bad you’re outranking me, because I would give you the order, captain Kazzaren. Your legplate is poking my ass.” Kim deadpanned.

Rizzen stuck his tongue out. “I thought you enjoy that stuff.”

Kimaryon wiggled his backside so he could lean closer. “I would enjoy getting you out of that metal shell.” he purred.

Rizzen raised his brow, but his playful expression stayed. “Would you now?” He grinned back at Kim.

The wizard chuckled and rested his head on the fighter’s shoulder.

“Are you going to sleep on me or what?” Rizz asked, which Kim answered with

“You’re comfy. You’ll be my new pillow.”

There was a moment of silence before the wizard speaking again.

“I still haven’t told you about why I asked you to come over.”

Rizzen raised his brow, and turned his head slightly, to face Kim. “I found the booze and the banter rather entertaining but no, you haven’t.” he agreed. “So?”

Kimaryon pulled himself back from the fighter’s shoulder, looking into his eyes.

“This might be our last time together for a long while. And I wanted to share a secret with you.”

Rizz leaned back, though he was still listening intently. Kim finally gathered his strength.

“At first I thought it will fade with time… This strange thing I feel whenever I’m near you.” he uttered with a tightening sensation in his throat. “But I was wrong.”

Rizzen’s expression darkened.

“You know it’s dangerous to harbour such feelings. Especially for another male.”

“The punishment for such sin depends greatly on the city you live in, and the clergy’s strength. In Menzoberranzan, you’ll be stripped naked and forced to run through the streets while the residents throw stones at you. If you survive the “run of shame”, you’ll be castrated.” Kim recited on an equally bleak tone. “In Ched Nasad, you’ll be hanged from one of the giant, calcified spidersilk strands, for all travellers to see. Zeberra is much more forgiving, the sentence for such offence is being turned into a drider along with your lover.”

“Yet none of these scare you enough…” Rizzen mused

Kim put his glass down to the floor next to their chair, and carried on.

“I’m more scared of losing you than of what they would do to me.”

“Bold words.” Rizzen chuckled bitterly.

Indeed, they were bold words but Kimaryon was determined to say them, and make the stubborn warrior finally understand that he meant more to him than a fleeting dalliance, his attraction residing in his core, rather than being skin-deep.

“You were a puzzle for me ever since I met you.” He caressed Rizzen’s face, and this time, the fighter didn’t move away. “I always questioned my intentions towards you, or the source of my affections, but the more I got to know you, they grew instead of fading away, as they were ought to.”

“If anyone finds out, we’ll end up being driders.” Rizzen held Kim’s hand gently.

“I’m willing to live with eight legs as long as you are there with me…” Kim stated.

Rizzen took a swig from his glass, then carefully pushed the wizard off of his lap, and stood up. He felt the alcohol going to his head and messing with his movement coordination, but he grabbed Kimaryon’s shoulders and pushed him to the desk. He leaned forward, forcing the wizard to arch his back, nearly laying underneath the slightly taller warrior.

“For fuck’s sake Kim…” Rizzen said calmly, but his voice carried an undertone Kimaryon couldn’t really put his finger on. It was equally intrigued and angered. “… Say it already!”

***

Kim felt his weight pushing him down and couldn’t utter a word. His mind was clouded by alcohol and desire. His eyes were fixed on Rizzen’s lips, and he felt he could no longer resist the urge to run his fingers through his hair and kiss him. Kim expected resistance, but instead Rizzen returned his kiss with a passion he never anticipated from the level-headed mercenary captain.

“If you really feel that way, say it!” Rizzen murmured to Kim’s mouth between two kisses, while the wizard was busy unbuttoning the warrior’s cloak, which fell to the ground behind him, soon to be followed by the rest of Rizzen’s armour and clothes, after Kimaryon uttered the words for a spell he prepared for “special occasions”. He tried to say the words he meant to say, yet all he did after disrobing Rizzen and then himself was pulling the warrior as close to him as physically possible, once again burying his hands in the other elf’s silky hair, sieging his lips.

They spent the whole day and the night together, making love or just napping next to each other on Kim’s bed. As he traced every little scar Rizzen had, especially Lolth’s teachings carved into his flesh, covering his entire back and the upper part of his bottom, Kim wanted to find the priestess who did this to him and flay her alive. He was playing with that fantasy ever since he saw the scarred and tattered remains of his friend’s skin for the first time. He leaned closer and planted a kiss on a scar between Rizzen’s shoulder-blades, prompting him to purr and stir from his Reverie.

“Kim… I’m tired.” he pleaded.

“I know. I just can’t help it. You look very sexy half-asleep.” The wizard half-jested.

Rizzen chuckled. “Oh, then imagine how sexy I’ll be when I’ll be fully asleep.”

Kim grinned at him, and snuggled close to his back, planting another little kiss on Rizzen's cheek before letting him rest.

***

He woke up later to the sensation of someone gently tugging at his hair. Rizzen opened his eyes and was about to turn around to scold Kim for waking him up again, but the wizard held him down with his hand.

“Hey, no fussing! I’ll ruin your braids!”

Rizzen furrowed his brow. “You’re braiding my hair?” he asked.

“Didn’t I just say that, _abbil_?” Kim asked back, continuing his work.

“Kim, you can’t!” Rizz started thrashing, but this time Kim held both of his hands and pinned them next to Rizzen’s head. “I’m not allowed to wear my hair braided. I’m not noble-born.” the fighter carried on.

Kim grinned at him victoriously. “You’re wrong! The braids I do – or rather would do for you if you’d just let me – are of an ancient tradition of our people. And it is connected to you, warrior-types.”

Rizzen furrowed his brow in confusion. Kim sighed. “Seems like I was the only one who was actually listening to our instructor on history class. Two smaller braids on the side of the warrior’s head, entwined together into a larger braid signalled that the warrior in question was taken by someone, or has someone as a lover.” he explained, still muddling with Rizzen’s hair. “Wear both small braids on the same side it meant his lover is of the same sex. It wasn’t forbidden for centuries, but eventually the priestesses banned it. I have a feeling that it had something to do with a lot of males turning to each other for comfort, and it clashed with their goddess’ will… We’re born to serve, after all…” The wizard concluded sarcastically.

Rizzen sat, prompting Kim to do the same. “And who else knows this besides you?” he mused.

Kim shrugged. “Not many people I suppose. But I know that no noble families in Zeberra wear their hair in this fashion. You will not be in danger.”

Rizz turned his back at Kim. “Let’s say I believe you.”

Kim grinned and continued to braid Rizzen’s hair properly.

“I mean… Braids are useful anyway.” the fighter sighed after a short pause.

“True. I don’t want nobody to grab you by your glorious silver mane and proceed to slice you open.” Kim added. He glanced over his work when he was done tying Rizzen’s long hair into a loose braid, entwined with the two smaller ones on the right side of his head.

“Is this what we are now?” Rizzen asked. “Lovers?”

Kim embraced him, kissing him deeply with the same passion he had at the first time. “That, and more. Something _they_ will never be.”

Rizzen smiled at the wizard sorrowfully when he pulled away.

“You know I will be bound to keep this a secret at all costs, unless we’re both ready to die for what we have.”

Kim caressed his face.

“I know.” his voice lacked the usual cheer. “And I will never blame you if you have to keep up appearances. You know what I mean.”

Rizzen knew. He kissed Kim’s forehead and stood up, gathering his clothes from the pile on the floor.

* * *

The next day he gathered the small company he intended to take with him, and briefed them on their oncoming task.

“There’s a long road ahead of us.” He concluded his speech. “Make sure all of us returns and we get paid.”

The mercenaries murmured and prepared to leave the compound. Rizzen took the lead on his lizard’s back, staring at the pathway leading to Zeberra.

“Nice hair, _Ilareth._ ” Rizzen’s second-in-command, a female drow named Karissa sneered. “Did you get it done only to impress the higher-ups?”

Rizzen chuckled, albeit a tiny bit anxiously.

“I think it’s more practical this way.” He defended, trying to hide his blush in vain.

“True.” Karissa nodded “But so is cutting it short.”

Rizzen eyed the neatly cropped hairdo of his lieutenant with a flat look.

“Don’t get me wrong, captain…” Karissa spoke again, seeing Rizzen’s sour expression “I personally think it suits you and all, but I would like to know what you plan to say to the nobles if they start asking questions about your bloodline…”

Rizzen shrugged.

“I guess I’ll lie.”

“Then I hope you have prepared some really good lies, because the priestesses can see right through them.” Karissa riposted grimly. “And as you probably know, the laws state that presenting yourself as a noble when you are not, is an act punishable by death.”

“I appreciate your concern, lieutenant.” Rizzen deadpanned.

“Oh, don’t you think I’m worried about _you._ ” Karissa grinned “But I would hate to have to take the lead of these sorry excuses for warriors and shepherd them back under Rezz’nar’s wings, to shame your name.”

“Then let’s hope they won’t ask inconvenient questions, shall we?” Rizzen forced a smile, successfully ending the conversation.

* * *

Shar’Nadal was absolutely thrilled to see the mercenary company dismount and occupy their places among House Drisraen’s soldiers. He wasn’t allowed to talk to them just yet, Lilith had to be present, for she was his official overseer, and in cases when he had to mingle with other drow, she usually liked to act like a chaperone. Shar’Nadal had a feeling that this is how she tries to keep an eye on him and his “problematic” behaviour. As soon as his sister emerged from her chambers with a barely dressed Adriel on her heel, he ran towards the mercenaries. He only stopped when Lilith cast a nasty look at his direction.

“Behave yourself!” She hissed. Shar’Nadal grinned at her and fell in line behind her, next to Adriel.

“Rough night?” He queried, and got a deadpan look as an answer.

Lilith stopped in front of the mercenary captain Shar’Nadal was eager to talk with, and welcomed him in House Drisraen’s estates.

“Thank you _jabbress._ ” Rizzen bowed as it was expected. “I came with some of the necessary supplies and troops, if you have what you need, we can depart in a cycle.”

Lilith flashed a satisfied grin at him.

“Well prepared I see.” She chuckled. “But alas, the preparations for the expedition faced some difficulties. And now that we are on the topic, I wanted you to handle it, captain.”

“ _Asanque._ ”

Lilith was pleased. She found Rizzen’s neutral tone and his eagerness to stay on her good side refreshing after both her unruly brother and outright defiant spouse. She also noticed the way he wore his hair was different from before. She was curious, but decided to let it go for the moment.

“You will find your quarters in the barracks.” Lilith concluded. “I want to see you in my quarters as soon as you settled in. The expedition had been delayed enough.”

Rizzen bowed again.

“I shall see you right away, mistress.”

Lilith marched away, but Adriel stared at the mercenary with contempt written on his face. He then turned and went back to the interior of the castle after the priestess. Only Shar’Nadal remained, but he too left after a short while. Or at least Rizzen believed he left until he spotted him later, following him everywhere he went.

He knew he shouldn’t keep Lilith waiting, but he needed time to prepare for briefing her on the details of the trip. He memorized it from his map again and again while he was sitting in the saddle of his lizard, but now that he was here, looking out from the battlements of Castle Drisraen, he felt his nerves beginning to give up on him.

Then, there was also the annoying presence of the youngster with a knack for hiding in shadows and tracking him. Rizzen deliberately ignored the boy for a solid ten minutes, but he was still around. He knew, he didn’t even have to look.

“Come out from the shadows lad, I see you.” The warrior sighed on an irritated tone, giving up on solving the matter with silent treatment. Shar’Nadal stepped out from the cover of the column he was hiding behind, and trudged over to Rizzen.

“Umm… _Vendui._ ” He greeted the mercenary captain a bit timidly.

“Did no one ever tell you it’s not the best idea to sneak around after people like that?” The older male grumbled.

“Was I that bad?” Shar’Nadal hung his face.

“Next time stick to the shadows, and only go after your target when they are out of sight. You don’t have to be stuck on their backs in the literal sense.” Rizzen advised. “Now what do you want?”

“I don’t even know where to begin…” Shar’Nadal grinned nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Wonderful.” Rizzen deadpanned.

“I, uh…” Shar’Nadal gathered his resolve “I have a few questions for you… About you.”

It might have been only an innocent attempt at forming bonds, but as far as the captain’s experiences went, there was always a catch, always some ulterior motive behind such seemingly innocent rows of questions. So his alarms went ringing.

“What do you want to know about me?” Rizzen asked indifferently. “That my mother was a blacksmith, and my father was a hedge-wizard of the pathetic kind? That I had two younger brothers I had to look out for, and our mother drank a lot?”

Shar’Nadal didn’t quite understood the antagonistic tone the older male’s voice began to take.

“I mean no harm…” he apologised. “I’m just… curious, that’s all. I don’t mean to use that information against you.”

Rizzen shook his head.

“Listen, lad… When you’ll be this old, you’ll be cautious too when someone starts asking questions about you.”

Shar’Nadal nodded.

“I apologise.”

“No need.” Rizzen shrugged. “Just know that I’m not really keen on talking about personal things with people I barely know. You shouldn’t be so open either. It’s something they will exploit if you let your guard down.”

“I just wanted to be your friend…” Shar’Nadal turned away. “I know it was foolish of me.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Rizzen patted the rogue’s shoulder.

They stood side by side for a while before Shar’Nadal asked yet another question.

“Does it get better? As you get older, I mean…”

Rizzen didn’t answer right away, he studied the younger male’s features. Shar’Nadal had an air of desperation around him, like he was constantly seeking something he just can’t find.

“No. It won’t.” He confessed with a heavy sigh. “But you learn to live with it. You learn to shut them out, to guard yourself against them, to always be alert, and never trust anyone, not even yourself.”

“Is it really something you can learn?” The lad sounded sceptic. Rizzen didn’t blame him.

“Either you learn it or you end up dead.” He shrugged. “But I think I get where you’re coming from.”

“Really?”

Rizzen sighed again, crossing his arms in front of him, turning his eyes away from Shar’Nadal.

“I grew up just like you. Surrounded by people who always, deliberately misunderstood my intentions, made me question my sanity and devalued my worth based on how I acted around others.” He shrugged. “Eventually, you either end up like them, or learn to ignore them as best as you can.”

“If I ignore them, they’ll hurt me.” Shar’Nadal looked down on his boots.

“I know.” Rizzen patted Shar’Nadal’s shoulder again. “That’s why you have to pretend that what they say means the world to you. They’ll believe it.”

Shar’Nadal hummed contemplatively.

“Have you never wondered what’s wrong with them?” he queried after a short pause, if only to stop Rizzen from leaving. The warrior chuckled and let his arms hang beside him.

“I rather wondered what’s wrong with me.” he replied.

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” Shar’Nadal grumbled.

“Considering that they are the majority of our people, I have to burst your bubble and say that yes, something’s wrong with us. We are the deviant ones.”

Rizzen patted Shar’Nadal on the back, then turned to leave. He didn’t want to keep Lilith waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> \- There's absolutely no canon source for how the clergy of Lolth treats males who are attracted to other males, or -gods forbid - identify as females (or vice-versa), so I had to work from scratch, and according to how they perceive anyone with a Y chromosome as less, I couldn't really imagine them being lenient about it. (The various punishments for various city-states are also my non-canon idea based on the notion that the more fanatical the city is, the more severe the repercussion for "crimes against Lolth's will and way of life".) 
> 
> Also it always made me wonder why is that we see a lot of priestesses "having fun" with each other in the official novels, even for social climbing, yet never we see the same about wizards or warriors... (Hence the "males are forbidden to have fun" headcanon present in this fic.) I hope I'm not the only one who finds it at least a little odd.
> 
> \- The "Drow males can or can't wear their hair in certain fashions according to their societal status" thing is canon. Might not be the exact way I described it, but this is the reason - to stay with a canon example - for Jarlaxle's baldness. The meaning of the braidings in a drow warrior's hair is entirely my headcanon.
> 
> Translations:
> 
> \- "Rath'arg" means "Dishonor". Yep, that's the name of Rizzen's sword.  
> \- "Ilareth, phor dos!" supposed to mean (if I didn't screw the grammar up) "Captain, above you!"  
> \- "Vlos Tagnik'zur, ratha!" = "Red (blood) Dragons, (fall) back!". I couldn't find the exact words for this, because none of the online drow dictionaries had pesky dull words like "red" or "fall". So yeah, I guess we'll have to do with this highly-possible butchering of drowish.  
> \- "Usstar quarth?" - means "Your orders?"  
> \- "Vith" is a curseword referring to khm... "intercourse". (Hint if you're also a Witcher-fan: Geralt of Rivia uses this a lot besides "Hmm..." ) Similarly, "Vithin" and "Vith'os" are the same curseword with an "-ing" and a "You" added respectively.  
> \- "Doer sinjin elghinn!" means "Come sweet death!". You noticed the "melodrama" tag, did you?  
> \- "Abbil" means "trusted friend", or "comrade". (But you already know that word I guess, from all the Jarlie/Artemis fanfics floating around. :D )  
> \- "Jabbress" is the female equivalent of "jabbuk" (see end notes of chapter 3).  
> \- "Asanque" means "Likewise" or "As you wish".  
> \- "Vendui" is the drow equivalent of "Hello", "I/we greet you"  
> And to refrain from putting yet another unnecessary batch of info here, I hope I can improve my writing while I'm working on this fic (getting rid of these pesky alliterations, for example), and though I would say I'm open to criticism, I know what kind of people sentences like this attracts, so I only ask you guys to bear with me. I'm still learning, and I have a lot of learning to do until I might consider my writing to worth a damn.  
> So again, thank you for showing interest, and/or commenting, even correcting me sometimes (special thanks where special thanks are due. ;) ), I really appreciate the help.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final touches on the preparations. Lilith finds herself to be drawn to Rizzen, while Adriel sees him as a threat to his position. Shar'Nadal is happy to finally have someone who understands him. Rizzen however, is frustrated by the strain his workload and his new companions put on him, also he gets a grim reminder of why keeping secrets are vital in drow society.
> 
> This is the last filler, I swear!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thank you a lot for reading!
> 
> Possible trigger warnings for this chapter are the following:  
> Violence, cursing, classism, homophobia, a nightmare sequence with horror elements, mention of/discussion about suicide.

Lilith watched the mercenary’s every move as he rolled the map out on her table, using her small statuettes and trinkets to secure it in place. She recognized places on the map, and her curiosity reached new heights with every little piece of parchment unfolding in front of her.

“We’ll have to travel through Veriol’s Fall, the former lair of Azzakghargax.” Rizzen pointed at the tiny circle on the map. “We checked every other possible route to the surface, but only this one is available at the time.”

Lilith nodded, giving extra score for her aunt and her subordinates for successfully getting rid of the shadow dragon.

“How much time will the journey take?” She asked, lifting her gaze from the map, over to Rizzen’s features.

“A tenday at best, but considering the possible complications, I would estimate it to half a month.” The captain turned away from her.

“Good.” Lilith nodded. “I will need you to check on the hirelings and suppliers.”

Rizzen bowed but didn’t look at her. Lilith felt a little prickling feeling inside her which wanted to see him devoting his attention to her, and her only.

“Also from now on, you are in charge of the supply-cart guards.” Lilith added, earning a look from both Rizzen and Adriel, who was sulking in the opposite end of the room.

“As you wish... Milady.” Rizzen cleared his throat and turned back to the map. Adriel stared at her with a mixed expression of disbelief and rage.

It came as no surprise – at least no surprise for Rizzen – when the other male cornered him in the corridor not far from Lilith’s chambers after the meeting was over.

“Don’t you dare to even think about it, you Houseless cur!”

Rizzen rolled his eyes but Adriel didn’t see it, for he was facing away from the furious warrior.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” He deadpanned and continued forward to the courtyard. He didn’t get away that easily, for Adriel followed.

“She may have her eyes on you, but don’t think that I will give up my place so easily!” The young drow steamed at the mercenary’s heel.

“So what are you going to do?” Rizzen finally turned around; his question carried a slightly provocative tone.

“I’m going to put you in your place, peasant.” Adriel growled.

“With that oversized butter knife you carry around like an exclamation mark?” Rizzen laughed. “I’ll knock you out before you can lift it, son.”

Adriel’s hand indeed reached for the hilt of his greatsword, but he wasn’t done proving his point.

“I doubt you could, _shebali._ ”

He drew his weapon quickly, and tried to cut Rizzen in two, but he dodged the blow, grabbing a shield from one of the carts filled with the equipment for the expedition. Adriel’s next attack was deflected by it.

“Aww, almost.” Rizzen taunted. “Don’t worry; you’ll get it next time!”

He dodged another wide sweep of the blade, followed by Adriel leaping forward, crashing into Rizzen’s shield with a loud clank.

“Or maybe not.” The mercenary ground through his gritted teeth. Despite the taunting, he felt that blow. His own hands wandered towards his sword, and he managed to get some distance between them by pushing Adriel a few feet back.

He was at him again in a moment, after doing a flip, determined to run him through. Rizzen deflected that attack as well, while he changed position to keep Adriel moving and force him to follow. He dodged and warded off every blow, or simply took a step aside of the way when the young warrior dashed at him.

Both of them were gasping for air, but Adriel fared worse. His flashy style of fighting was indeed a sight to behold, but it took a lot more effort than the common military form Rizzen used. He was beginning to get tired, while the mercenary only began to warm up.

“Who taught you to fight?” Rizzen queried while slowly repositioning himself to be able to dodge another sweep or leaping blow.

“Our House’s weapons master. Same as every other soldier in our army.” Came the answer.

“Makes one wonder how your House is still unconquered.” Rizzen launched another verbal attack against the weakest point of his opponent: his ego. “What did you say the other day, he’s from Menzoberranzan? I heard their fighters dance nicely, never thought I’ll see it personally.”

Adriel rammed into him again, this time forgetting to use his sword. Rizzen grabbed the younger drow and using the same momentum of Adriel’s attack, he threw him over his shoulder. He never even had to draw his own weapon. Regardless, he measured the weight of his shield, while stealing a glance on the disgraced Adriel, prone on the ground.

“If you kill me, you’ll be hanged!” The younger drow threatened.

“First mistake you made: There are too many witnesses.” Rizzen lectured him. “Not to mention that these are mostly my soldiers, who would definitely side with me, in case anyone comes asking questions. Which they won’t, because no one cares about you.”

Adriel got up and rushed at him, only to end up on his ass again.

“Second mistake: I couldn’t give a dead goblin’s ass about your position or your mistress.” Rizzen stood above Adriel, looking down on him with a stern expression. “You decry me and my profession, and you may continue to do so. I don’t care. I’m here to do my job and to get paid for it; anything else is of no importance.”

“You want me to believe that someone like you wouldn’t give anything to be someone of importance?” It was Adriel’s time to laugh. “Do you take me for such a fool?”

“If anything, I pity you and any of my fellow males who have been forced to serve a priestess as consort.”

Rizzen’s voice indeed carried a bitter tone of sympathy, yet Adriel wanted none of it.

“Shove your pity! I have been given an opportunity, and I won’t let you, or anyone stand in my way!”

Rizzen made a face like Adriel was successful in delivering him a blow.

“Good thing not an ounce of my self-worth depends on what they think about me, then.” He sighed. “I’d hate to be someone like you.”

Karissa watched the pair fight from a safe distance and shook her head walking over to Rizzen, while Adriel left in shame, cursing under his breath.

“Nicely done, _Ilareth._ ” She applauded her superior.

“I have a feeling that he’ll cause more trouble.” Rizzen sighed. “Let’s see what delayed our esteemed contractor’s departure for so long.”

Karissa nodded and followed the male drow to the commoner quarters.

* * *

Shar’Nadal found his sister in a surprisingly good mood that day.

“Soon we’ll leave this place, and begin our quest for the valuables of the people living above us.” He voiced what he thought she was probably thinking. “A fine day it is indeed.”

Lilith would scold him or slap him for being annoying on any other occasion, but right now she was pleased, and didn’t bother to correct her insolent brother.

“And our fine mercenary captain already did a good job in putting Adriel into his place.” She chuckled. “I bet he’ll be much less of a nuisance from now on.”

Shar’Nadal heavily doubted it, but he was more prudent than to say it out loud.

“Do you think he needs some help with the preparations?” he asked instead, looking out the same window Lilith did, giving them a nice view of the castle’s courtyard and the busy commoners and mercenaries.

“Now that I think about it...” Lilith pondered “He might. Let’s go see it for ourselves.”

The siblings made their way through the corridor and down the stairs to Rizzen’s spot.

He immediately lowered his face and averted his eyes from Lilith when they stopped next to him.

“How long until we can depart?” The priestess inquired.

“I made arrangements to replace the lost equipment, or substituted it with ours.” Rizzen answered. “I guess we can leave early in the next cycle.”

Lilith nodded and wanted to say something when Milifae came running.

“There you are!” She exclaimed cheerfully. “Kazzaren, was it? I require your help with something, immediately!”

Rizzen flashed an apologetic look at Lilith and Shar’Nadal, then followed Milifae. Lilith – getting offended for being interrupted – also went after the pair, her curious brother in tow.

The four drow passed the courtyard to the outer walls, where a cart could be seen lying on its side, while the drider that was used to pull it tried to stand up. Rizzen’s blood went cold in his veins.

“What happened here?” He inquired, trying to keep his neutral expression and tone of voice.

“Oh you know, poor Nar’Brindar lost a leg the other day and it probably affected his balance.” Milifae explained.

Rizzen didn’t look at her, he couldn’t get his eyes off from the half drow- half spider abomination that fought itself to its feet, while the workers began to lash him mercilessly. This drew another drider – much smaller in appearance – which jumped into the fray, standing over the larger creature. It got the brunt of the lashes, and soon fell on top of the large drider. The dramatic scenario ended with the smaller drider’s fall, the workers turned their attention to the cart instead. Rizzen still couldn’t move his gaze from the large creature cradling the unconscious – or probably dead – body of the smaller one, making a chattering sound that was mixed with an eerie resemblance of a mournful cry.

“Who’s Nar’Brindar by the way?” Shar’Nadal prattled.

“You don’t know?” Milifae sounded surprised. “Oh, you’re too young to remember great uncle Nar’Brindar, aren’t you?”

Lilith took the role of speaker from her cousin.

“He was the brother of Matron Drisinil. Rumour has it he liked boys much more than he liked his own House.” She scoffed derisively. “He only got what he deserved if you ask me.”

She left, but the rest of the company stayed on the spot.

“Rizzen, are you all right?” Shar’Nadal was the only one who noticed that the mercenary went paler, and he was slightly shaking.

“Hm? Oh, yes I am.” Rizzen answered, but he could only fool Milifae. “I’m just getting a little bit tired, that’s all.”

“Well, in that case, let me quickly show you what I need your help with!” Milifae took Rizzen’s hand and pulled him along to another cart. Shar’Nadal didn’t follow; he was also preoccupied with the pair of driders.

* * *

_He felt someone touching his hair, as light as a breeze. The hand went down to his back, traced the marks of lashes, the scars, as if admiring them. He felt the kiss between his shoulder blades, and turned to face his pesky bedmate who wouldn’t let him sleep. He mirrored Kim’s smug grin before pulling him down to kiss him. He tasted sweet, but there was a tiny little voice in the back of Rizzen’s mind that told him something was wrong. He couldn’t really feel his lower body, and as he traced down Kim’s spine, he found strange protrusions and hard shell where his bottom used to be. Rizzen pulled away, and just began to realize that he sees everything, even the wall behind his back. His head began to spin, and he reached out to rub his forehead, but ended up injuring his eye... one of the many._

_“We got what we deserved...” Kimaryon’s lilted voice whispered into his ear. “Our union is forbidden. We are born to serve, to endure, to be sacrificed.”_

_Rizzen shook his head and wanted to object, to tell him that they didn’t believe this, but the thing in front of him wasn’t Kimaryon anymore. It vaguely resembled the wizard, but had the lower body of an enormous barn spider. His empty black eyes covered most of his face, which wasn’t peeled off to make a horrifying mockery of spider fangs, exposing the former elf’s jaws and teeth. Rizzen backed away, but his legs tangled and he fell off from something that looked like a giant web. He landed harshly on the stone, and felt sharp pain in more than two of his legs. As he tried to fight himself up, he heard the heavy thumping of another set of giant spiderlegs. Rizzen looked up at the creature approaching him. It was larger than any other drider he’d ever seen, and had the upper body of a strikingly beautiful female drow. She didn’t utter a word, yet Rizzen heard her voice in his head, on a volume that threatened to burst his skull open._

_“Arrogant little morsel. You have forgotten your place.”_

_Rizzen tried to back away, scuttling on his thin spiderlegs, raising his arms in defence. A host of smaller spiders – though, they were only small compared to the giant female drider – rushed forward from the shadows, and swarmed towards Rizzen’s spot._

_“Little morsels like you have their purpose, and when it’s done, they become food.”_

_The spider swarm reached him, and began to bite into his legs; some of them crawled up on him and bit into his flesh. No matter if he killed one, three other spiderlings crawled in the dead one’s space. Rizzen looked at the giant drider pleadingly, but she only stared at him without any sign of compassion._

_“You will feed my children, little morsel.”_

_A spiderling burrowed into his back, and Rizzen felt his face split, exposing the lower part of his skull, while his peeled off skin hardened into fangs, and let out a blood curdling scream._

He woke up from his nightmare to the sound of his own screaming. No one was in the tiny bedchamber but him, tangled in his bedsheets and covered in sweat. He gasped for air for a few minutes, before tearing the sheets off of his body, and went to the washroom to clean up. The lukewarm water chased the last drops of sleep away from him, and as he looked down on himself, Rizzen felt relief that he still had only two legs. When he was done with his quick bath, he dressed and went to the battlements, to air his head out.

Just when he thought this day couldn’t get any worse, he spotted Adriel’s large form leaning against the wall.

“Can’t sleep, captain?” The warrior greeted Rizzen without even looking at him. “Well, it almost looks like even insolent upstarts have troubles.”

“I had a nightmare, that’s true.” Rizzen stopped a few feet away from Adriel. “But I do not wish to intrude on your alone-time, _jabbuk._ ”

“If only I had such a thing as “alone time”. Adriel sighed. He looked positively like a different person from the hot-headed brute that tried to split the mercenary in two.

“You’re not safe no matter where you are, they can see into your head, and punish you if they don’t like what you’re thinking.” Rizzen droned while leaning to the banister. “You have to conform to a mould cast by them unless you want to be persecuted and eventually killed.”

“I didn’t want to be her consort.” Adriel confessed. Rizzen couldn’t decide if he was drunk, tired or depressed. He reckoned the younger warrior might be all three at once. “I wanted to run away. But she found me. And now I am trapped here.”

“We are all trapped.” Rizzen said, but he wasn’t sure if he aimed it at Adriel or himself. “But there’s always hope.”

Adriel chuckled unhappily.

“Have a sausage party with a bunch of Houseless rogues? I pass.”

“Why?”

“I just don’t see the point.” Adriel confessed. “You band together, act like you care about one another while playing soldier, then eventually, the city council, or the High Priestesses or any other proper authority intervenes, and sends you petulant little boys back to your mothers. No. The sooner you resign to your fate, the better.”

Rizzen shook his head.

“This is not what I experienced.” He objected, but didn’t elaborate. Much to his surprise, Adriel prodded further.

“Then what did you experience in your long life, master?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm, but the question was honest.

“No matter what you do, you will never be good enough.” Rizzen sighed. “You know, we Red Dragons have this saying about priestesses and Matron Mothers, that they hate you if you’re clever, and despise you if you’re a fool. And in the meantime, they demand you to be a fool for them. You can’t win the game, so it’s better if you’re not playing at all.”

Adriel made an amused hum.

“You know what’s funny? It’s rumoured that our House Wizard said the same thing to the Patron of the House before the latter went and offed himself.”

Rizzen felt sorry for the late consort of the Matron Mother, even though he didn’t know him.

“Sometimes we think death is the only option.”

Adriel pushed himself away from the wall, and leaned to the banister next to Rizzen.

“Have you ever thought about it?”

“No. I learned to rely on myself and grew a thicker skin.” The mercenary answered. “I don’t say I could never be broken that much, but I feel lucky. I can’t imagine what he had to go through to think that he has no other choice but to die.”

Adriel was amused by Rizzen’s compassion; at least his spirits seemed to be higher than when they began their conversation.

“It was nice talking with you, captain.” He chuckled. “And I owe you my thanks; you made all of my suspicions about you subside.”

Rizzen didn’t understand what he meant, but Adriel didn’t explain. He slapped the other male’s shoulder, and went down to the courtyard, and back to the castle.

“Umm...” Another voice came from the staircase’s direction. “Am I disturbing you?”

Rizzen turned his head to see Shar’Nadal fidgeting where Adriel disappeared mere moments ago.

“No.” He turned back to observe the faerie-lights illuminating Zeberra in the distance.

“I heard what you and Adriel were talking about.” Shar’Nadal said carefully. “About Nym. He told me this... I mean he told me that Ronwen told him that... before he... You know.”

The younger drow’s babbling tore Rizzen out of his melancholy that threatened to settle on him.

“Listen, you didn’t do anything wrong. Want to talk? I’m here.” He tried to ease the visibly distressed rogue’s nerves.

“I found Nym.” Shar’Nadal sniffled. “And I think, I am the only one in the House – not counting Mother Drisinil – who actually feels bad for him. I hear Vimora make jokes at his expense, and it’s just...wrong. I know Nym doesn’t mind, because he’s no longer here, but I do. I do mind.”

“You mind it because they make inappropriate jokes at your expense just as easily.” Rizzen explained. “At least you’re still alive, and can take offence.”

“Did that happen to you?” Shar’Nadal plopped down on the ground next to the mercenary.

“Sometimes.”

“What did you do to not acknowledge it?”

Rizzen turned towards the younger drow, and sat down to the ground next to him.

“I did a lot of things that were bad for me, but they kept me alive.” he replied. “I learned to be agreeable, polite at all circumstances, and patient.”

He chuckled and pulled one of his legs up, to rest his arm on his knee.

“I was a lot like you when I was your age, you know? I never shut up about how “wrong” I thought the world was, no matter the beatings, the imprisonment or the threats. My mother was irate.”

Shar’Nadal looked at him with childlike, wide-eyed curiosity. It made Rizzen feel a pang in his heart. He would hate to see the spark die in Shar’Nadal’s eyes.

“You said you don’t want to talk about personal things, but may I ask a personal question?” the rogue queried.

“You may, but I may not answer.”

“Why is your sword named “Dishonour”? I mean it sounds appropriate for a weapon, but I find the choice of word peculiar.”

“It’s a long story.” Rizzen grinned. “And it involves my mother, who wasn’t happy with my failure to be a wizard. The day she learned that I was expelled from the Academy of Arcane Arts, she beat me near-unconscious with an iron rod. She told me that I will bring dishonour to her name and to her family. So, when I graduated from the Academy of Warfare and I got my weapon, I named it “Dishonour” and went home to present it to her. She nearly choked. It was awesome.”

Shar’Nadal laughed.

“Come on, that can’t be true! How are you still alive then?”

“The joke wasn’t lost on her, so to speak. But since I was much stronger and beefier than when I began my training, she didn’t risk getting in a physical fight with me anymore.”

They sat in silence for a short while before Shar’Nadal poking Rizzen’s side.

“Aren’t you curious how I know your sword’s name?”

The older male sneered at him.

“Shar’Nadal, you have been stalking me all day, ever since I set foot in the compound of House Drisraen. I’m not surprised the slightest. I also assume that you have been going over my stuff as well.”

Shar’Nadal lowered his head.

“Sorry. I was just curious, and you didn’t want to talk...”

“It’s all right.” Rizzen waved his hand. “You can keep the ring as well.”

Shar’Nadal sheepishly fished the aforementioned piece of jewellery out of his pocket.

“I got it from a friend, but I seldom use it.” Rizzen explained.

“What is it good for?” The boy asked.

“Try it on, and find it out!” Rizzen grinned.

Shar’Nadal began to think that maybe he didn’t want to keep the ring. But his curiosity got the better of him, and he pocketed the item.

“Can I come and talk with you again another time?” He wanted to know.

“Your relatives won’t be happy to see you being too friendly with a common soldier.” Rizzen’s tone of voice became firmer. “But as long as no one’s around, I’m here if you want to talk.”

Shar’Nadal flashed a disarming smile at him and rushed down the stairs, leaving the captain alone with his thoughts.

The next day was busy, the whole House was milling about the carts and the lizards. Milifae voiced her displeasure of excluding the House’s drider workforce from the expedition, while Lilith rubbed her temples and hoped the usual headache won’t bother her. Adriel, Shar’Nadal and a handful of House Drisraen’s commoner soldiers packed the last pieces of equipment, and tended to the riding lizards. Adriel pulled Velkyn’s reins and went to the front, while Lilith climbed onto one of the carts. She didn’t want a floating disk to carry her. She spotted Rizzen among the Red Dragon mercenaries, and waved at him to make him direct his lizard next to her cart.

“I can’t believe we’re finally leaving!” Shar’Nadal popped up from behind his sister.

“Curb your enthusiasm, little brother!” Lilith scolded him, but as much as the mercenary could tell, it was only a half-attempt. The priestess was just as eager and enthusiastic as the rogue, if not more. “We won’t see anything else but rocks and mushrooms for a long time.”

“We might encounter various monsters and creatures on our way.” Rizzen inserted. “We better be wary.”

“I have my handsome and experienced captain for that.” Lilith beamed. “I’m sure you can defend me.”

Rizzen wasn’t sure he wanted to, but he knew he had to if he wants to get paid for his job.

“Milady.” He gave a curt nod and clicked his tongue to signal his lizard to go faster.

Lilith watched his back, and sighed in anticipation. The expedition was on its way, despite every effort of her aunts. She was pleased indeed. Shar’Nadal and Milifae’s prattling suddenly wasn’t so annoying either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> \- "Shebali" is a term used for drow commoners or ones of the rogue class. Adriel uses it derogatorily, but I guess it is just a title or name of profession in general.
> 
> \- What Rizzen says to Adriel about having a saying among the Red Dragons about priestesses is actually a quote from John Lennon's "Working Class Hero", with a little twist. Credit where credit's due.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I have been on the surface once. It was awful." <\- Lesaonar, soldier of House Drisraen.
> 
> "The idiots believed the trees were attacking them. It was hilarious." <\- Airon, mercenary of the Red Dragon Company.
> 
> "These strange elves came and stole our doors, took our children as hostages, and demanded to know the location of a monster that had been preying on the townspeople for months now. I still don't know what to make of it." <\- Goodfellow Oren, resident of Oaksgrove village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, my dearest readers, sorry for the long wait!
> 
> As always, there are sensitive topics in the chapter, but I can't list all of them here, also I can't possibly know everyone's triggers/phobias, so once again, read at your own risk. If you're 7 chapters in, I guess you already have an idea about what to expect. Major warnings are for fantasy racism (against humans), violence and cursing, abusive behavior of some characters, twisted game mechanics, slavery.
> 
> And you might notice that the final chapter count is reduced, more on that after the actual chapter.
> 
> Update: Fixed the wrong tense. Huge thanks go to aaron_mag again for the help!

Despite having a map and several capable scouts, the journey through the Underdark still lasted longer than expected. Instead of the estimated half month, they spent a whole three tendays in the tunnels, and they haven’t reached Veriol’s Fall yet.

Lilith had some troubling dreams and frequent headaches, but she was pretty sure the latter was a result of close proximity of her brother and his endless prodding about various topics related to the surface world. When he wasn’t on the front line directing the soldiers, Rizzen answered Shar’Nadal’s questions with so much patience Lilith began to envy him for it.

“I’ve never seen humans in their natural habitat.” Milifae joined the conversation. “I’m curious about it.”

“What in the Nine Hells could probably be interesting in a flock of dumb animals?” Lilith couldn’t help but add. “You could just go to the rothe pens and stare at them for hours if you’re so inclined.”

“Humans are not like rothe.” Milifae defended “They can talk, for example. And they can think whereas rothe cannot. Also, we don’t eat humans.”

“We might as well should.” Lilith shrugged.

Rizzen stood up from his spot and turned away from them.

“I’m not going to be a part of this conversation.” He asserted and walked away. Lilith didn’t know why it made her regret what she said.

“Me either.” Shar’Nadal followed the mercenary. “Better check on the scouts anyway.”

Milifae was staring after them with a dejected look on her face, but then she stood up and left the High-Priestess without a word.

“Fools, all of you.” Lilith hissed and crossed her arms in front of herself before leaning to the cave wall.

* * *

Shar’Nadal thought he might as well make himself useful while following Rizzen around. He talked with some of the mercenaries and went to see Lesaonar, the leader of House Drisraen’s scouts. He found the other drow sitting on a rock and cleaning his armour from sticky goo they had to wade through before turning back and reporting about that particular tunnel being unfit for travel.

“Greetings!” The rogue stepped in front of the scout. Lesaonar bowed and turned back to his work.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Shar’Nadal queried. Lesaonar dared to steal a glance at him then immediately turned back to his tools.

“Milord, you might as well just behead me if you’re so inclined.” He half-jested. “I’m but a mere soldier, and you are a noble of your House. You shouldn’t be asking for my permission.”

Shar’Nadal felt insulted by the resigned tone the older male was talking on. He never liked to be reminded of how senseless violence was normalized in their society.

“I know, but I’m still asking you.” He insisted. “I wish to talk with you, but I don’t want to waste your time or force you if you have other things to attend to.”

Lesaonar slid to the edge of the rock and gestured for Shar’Nadal to sit on the space he created. The rogue settled down but remained silent, only looking at the scout’s hands as they worked, erasing the stains from the hardened leather.

“What was it you wanted to speak with me about?” Lesaonar broke the silence after a long pause.

Shar’Nadal opened his mouth but no words left him. Actually, he just wanted to get away from Lilith’s vicinity, so he had no idea about an appropriate topic. Right until he saw Rizzen and another of the Red Dragons approaching and passing them by, the captain shooting a jovial glimpse at the rogue.

“What do you think about the mercenaries?” He finally voiced his thoughts after the other two drow left hearing distance.

Lesaonar raised his head and stared at the figures in black and red armour in front of a supply cart, taking inventory.

“What of them?” He shot back another question.

“I mean... You probably have an opinion.” Shar’Nadal prodded further. “About the captain, if no one else.”

“Ah, yes. Him.” The scout laughed somewhat derisively. “I saw you hanging on his every word like he was sent by a god or something. And I don’t blame you, Milord.”

He rested his elbow on his knee and put his chin on his fisted hand. Shar’Nadal waited for him to continue.

“Captain Kazzaren is a likable sort of fellow.” Lesaonar analysed the other drow by looking at him still. “And his likeability is what makes him dangerous. I see why he would be so attractive to young and foolish males such as yourself, if you forgive me for saying such a thing.”

“I took no offense.” Shar’Nadal reassured him, but the scout didn’t acknowledge it.

“He preaches to you about freedom from the Priestesses and an equality of sorts that can never exist, because we are all different in different ways. He tells you tall tales about justice and us being the victim of an erratic system, while the system is what culls the weak from our midst.”

Shar’Nadal wanted to explain to him that equality didn’t mean uniformity, but also wanted Lesaonar to finish before he voiced his disagreement.

“He’s the kind that always paints himself as the victim, because that is what suits his own agenda.” The scout let out an irritated sigh. “And you know, he reminds me of someone.”

Shar’Nadal raised his brow.

“Who?”

Lesaonar leaned back to the cave wall, crossing his arms in front of him.

“Have you ever heard of Drizzt Do’Urden?”

Shar’Nadal shook his head.

“I’m surprised.” Lesaonar admitted. “Many youngsters view him as some sort of role-model to look up to, the poor fools.”

“Why is that?” Shar’Nadal inquired.

“You see, I can only tell you what I’ve heard, but this Drizzt fellow angered the Goddess and brought the destruction of his whole House because he just couldn’t fit in. He never learned how to bow his head and just obey and survive for another day. Rumour has it he ran away and went up to the surface.”

“That’s a happy ending I didn’t expect.” Shar’Nadal inserted bitterly.

“To me it’s more like a cautionary tale, than anything.” Lesaonar shrugged. “His House no longer exists, and it is said that even mentioning his name can draw the ire of the Spider Queen on you, so I shall stop it now. But regardless of his crimes against his own kin, his name is still whispered by both the young and foolish, and those who would use those naive sons-of-goblins to their own ends. I say beware the _darthiir_ in our ranks, for there are many.”

“How do you know all this?” Shar’Nadal inquired.

“I heard it from the weapons master, and he heard it from another member of his former House. It happened a few decades ago in Menzoberranzan.”

Though Lesaonar meant it as some sort-of horror tale to give him a push back to “the right direction”, Shar’Nadal felt inspired by it and not at all intimidated. He stood up, nodded to Lesaonar and went over to Rizzen who discussed the rations usage with another mercenary of his company.

When he reached the pair, Shar’Nadal stopped and even though he knew it’s neither safe nor polite to stare, he couldn’t help himself but to stare at the mercenary’s face in front of him.

The drow male was approximately Rizzen’s age, meaning he was somewhere in his nineties, maybe nearing his first century. He had short hair, with a bald spot where a huge burn mark covered the entire left side of his head, disfiguring his ear and give his face a skull-like appearance. The other side of his head and face looked like any other dark elf: high cheekbones, big crimson eye and a pointy ear. He also had a single thin braid of hair on that side, tucked behind his ear.

“I think you have someone who wants your attention, _Ilareth._ ” The mercenary curled the uninjured side of his mouth into a grin when he spotted Shar’Nadal standing in Rizzen’s shadow. The captain turned around with a raised brow, then he as well smiled.

“I see. You got tired of the propaganda?” he asked, leaning to the cart so he didn’t cover his former conversation partner from view.

“I uh...” Shar’Nadal rubbed the back of his neck while he pondered about what to reply.

“I know the scouts and soldiers from your House don’t particularly like me, so I just assumed.” Rizzen shrugged, seeing the younger drow’s predicament. “And in no way I mean to interfere with your personal business.”

“Not at all!” Shar’Nadal objected. “Lesaonar just told me a story I found quite interesting to be honest.”

“Good.” Rizzen’s smile never left his features, but he was clearly about to turn back to the other mercenary. Shar’Nadal wanted to keep him from that, but not even he was sure about why.

“I mean... I wonder if you ever heard about any drow who left and ran away to the surface before...”

Rizzen turned back to him, but it was the other male who answered the rogue.

“Actually there are some of them, who tried. Current company included.”

Rizzen chuckled and introduced the other two drow to each other.

“Well, I guess you’re right.” he gestured towards the mercenary “This is Airon, leader of the Red Dragons’ scouts.”

Shar’Nadal nodded towards the scout, while the other drow slightly bowed as a greeting gesture.

“And this sneaky little fellow is Shar’Nadal of House Drisraen.” Rizzen introduced him to Airon, who whistled in astonishment.

“A member of the contracting family! My my, I am honoured.” According to his tone, he felt anything but.

“Don’t mind him.” Rizzen turned to Shar’Nadal “He loves to embarrass nobles. That’s his hobby of sorts.”

“I wonder how did you stay out of trouble with that hobby.” Shar’Nadal grumbled, but his mood lightened when Airon just laughed.

“Do I look like someone who “stayed out of trouble”?”

“No, I guess not.” Shar’Nadal looked away sheepishly.

“Well then” Rizzen interrupted “can I be of assistance for you, Master Shar’Nadal? Or shall we return to our task, because we don’t have all day.”

“Actually, I wanted to know if I can help you with maintenance and supply distribution.” Shar’Nadal turned to the captain. “I’m actually good at it; I had to manage resources for a while for my close relatives. Or I could go with the scouts and help with finding safe routes.”

In fact, he would do anything just to get away from Lilith and Adriel.

“Would you look at that?” Airon exclaimed “A noble that wants to do actual work! That’s not something you see often.”

Rizzen chuckled and shook his head.

“Very well then.” He gestured for Shar’Nadal to follow. “I have to warn you though: I’m busy, and can’t be always around you. Stay close to Airon, he’ll introduce you to the scouts, and maybe you’ll get assigned to a group.” Seeing Shar’Nadal’s enthusiastic grin he added “Your sister will have the final say in anything, you know that.”

* * *

Lilith wasn’t particularly happy about Shar’Nadal wanting to go to the front lines with the scouts, but she grudgingly accepted. She also sent Lesaonar and the scouts of House Drisraen with them. She began to see a familiar form at the corner of her eye, always slipping away when she tried to look straight at it. It was the lady in the glowing dress. She mingled in the crowd of soldiers, scouts, sometimes just stood in the middle of the road, and disappeared when a cart went through her. Lilith tried hard to suppress her uneasiness in fear of her subordinates recognize it as a weakness they could exploit. She also began to wonder if the apparition is a ghost of some sort, the remaining essence of a priestess long gone. But why was she haunting her? She decided to try and summon her after they returned from their raid and demand answers from the creature. Lilith didn’t even dare to think about if this was just a test of Lolth, and the drow female in the glowing dress was actually a yochlol. She sometimes glanced over to Milifae to see if the other priestess felt or saw something unusual as well, but her cousin was just as oblivious as always. Lilith was utterly confused about the reason for her continued survival despite her air-headedness.

In the meantime, Shar’Nadal did as he was advised and followed Airon everywhere he went. They worked surprisingly well as a team, and Shar’Nadal felt his face flush when Airon mentioned it later to Rizzen. They found the safest route to Veriol’s Fall, and now they had to prepare to travel all the way. None of the scouts spoke out loud during that time, every communication went through the elaborate hand-sign language the drow perfected for this. The soldiers were notified first if the scouts found a potential threat, and then the priestesses if it was inevitable. Both scouts and soldiers preferred to solve things before the priestesses get involved, for that usually ended up with a few heads rolling in the literal sense.

“Would you care to tell me something?” Airon prodded when they finally got back to the camp from the tunnel they have been scouting. Shar’Nadal raised his brow.

“What is it you wish to know?” He answered with a question of his own.

“How did the esteemed first son of a High-Priestess learn the art of sneaking around and tracking? It makes no sense to my common mind.” Airon elaborated.

Shar’Nadal grinned and crossed his legs to lean on them, getting a bit closer to the scout, so no one else might hear what he said.

“You know, I was always too curious for my own good. At least my sister always tells me. And she kept me out of places I wanted to get in, so I learned to get into places without getting in trouble... If you know what I mean.”

Airon snickered and shook his head.

“You know, surfacers have a saying for that: curiosity killed the cat.”

“Oh, but they don’t know _this_ cat!” Shar’Nadal pointed at himself proudly “I can sneak like no one else.”

“Youthful confidence...” Airon laughed “... It’s so refreshing to see. And so sad when it has an inevitable crash with reality.”

“I am confident because I know my craft.” Shar’Nadal pulled himself straight. “I tell you, I did sneak into the lair of a dragon, and it only noticed me because I took something from its hoard. If I would want to, I could sneak around that huge beast for days and it wouldn’t be the wiser.”

“Or it would just roll around and squish you.” Airon shrugged, but his grin never left the intact side of his face.

“You must be very fun at parties.” Shar’Nadal grumbled.

“How did you know?” Airon laughed.

Their conversation got interrupted by Rizzen stopping next to them.

“May I know the reason for such light-heartedness?” He inquired, while lowering himself down to a crouch, to be on the same level as the other two males.

“We’re just glad we’ll be finally out of these tunnels.” Shar’Nadal shrugged. “Also, I was trying to prove to Airon that I’m a champion at sneaking.”

Rizzen snickered.

“And how is it going?”

“Nah, I still don’t believe the kid.” Airon shook his head. “Never saw anyone who claimed to sneak into a dragon’s lair and lived to tell the tale.”

“I’m not lying!” Shar’Nadal put his hands on his hips. “Believe it or not, I’m the best sneaker who ever sneaked... Or is it snoke?”

“I believe it is “sneaketh” in High-drowish.” Rizzen tried to sound serious but he failed. All three of them laughed at the stupid little joke.

“But if you forgive me, O champion of sneakiness...” the captain spoke again after they could stop giggling “I have to discuss something with Airon. In private.”

As both older males were standing up, the scout shot another comment at the other mercenary.

“In private? My-my, was I bad? Will you spank me?”

Rizzen mirrored Airon’s grin, but feigned offense.

“Have you no shame? There’s a child right next to you!”

Airon turned over to glance at Shar’Nadal, who tried to suppress his snickering in vain.

“Nah, if he’s old enough to sneak into a dragon’s lair, he’s old enough to hear about this.”

“Now you believe it!” Shar’Nadal exclaimed.

“We’ll be back in a few minutes.” Rizzen assured the rogue and pulled his fellow mercenary along.

“We’re not going fast enough.” Lilith steamed. Milifae ignored her existence and occupied herself with studying the glowing mould on the walls. The other priestess tapped her feet impatiently on the ground, crossing her arms in front of her and staring into the distance, where the scouts and warriors of both House Drisraen and the mercenary company milled about. She wondered what was going on, but figured if it was important, either Rizzen or Lesaonar would tell her.

Lilith let out a resigned sigh and turned her attention back to her own small camp. Adriel stood guard nearby, seemingly bored out of his mind but still alert to his surroundings. A handful of the House’s soldiers were positioned around the camp so they could keep an eye out for danger. The idle yet tense atmosphere made the priestess wish for goblins in the dark, for at least they could provide some distraction.

It came in the form of Shar’Nadal, who reported that the troops were ready to move.

“Finally.” Lilith hissed. “If I had to stay one more hour in this hole I probably would kill someone.”

Shar’Nadal had no doubts about that.

“I have to go with the scouts and see if the area near Veriol’s Fall is safe.” He asserted.

“You do as I command you to do!” Lilith snapped at him, but then nodded. “But anyway... Go and see if we can leave this Goddess-forsaken cavern! I’m itching to be somewhere else.”

As were everyone else in her entourage. The carts and soldiers moving made a lot of noise, so the scouts had work to do, detecting and eliminating any potential threat before anyone might notice that a small army of drow is passing through the area. Veriol’s Fall was deemed to be safe for travel, and Lilith took the time for herself to look around. The underground plains had many places where someone can set up an ambush or a hiding place. It also had a lake with sulphuric water; its warmth painted it a pleasant red in Lilith’s heat-seeing eyes. A small flock of wild rothe fled at the sight of the approaching drow and disappeared in the vast cavern. Overall, Veriol’s Fall seemed like a lovely place.

“I wonder how these plains got their name.” Lilith mused, picking up a small mushroom.

“I heard Veriol was a Matron Mother, known for her military skills.” Milifae stepped next to her cousin. “And she was feared far and wide throughout this part of the Underdark. She conquered city-states, defeated rival Houses, killed dwarf kings and self-proclaimed prophets.”

Lilith rolled her eyes.

“If she was so high and mighty, why did we never hear about her?”

“Because she failed.” Adriel joined the conversation despite neither female addressing him. “She defeated dwarf kings, yes. But she failed to defeat her greatest nemesis, Azzakghargax.”

“The dragon of the plains?” Lilith queried “The one Vimora slew and took its hoard of treasure to our House?”

“If anyone, it was Zathriel and I who did the slaying.” Adriel grumbled. “And I bet Veriol’s tale hides something like this as well. She was the one the bards sang about, but her subordinates did the actual work.”

Lilith cast a pointy look at him, her vipers raising their heads on her belt. She fought the intense disgust she felt about the creatures squirming on her, and focused on her anger towards the male, still looking at her defiantly.

“Veriol’s tale is a cautionary one.” Milifae inserted herself between her brother and her cousin. “It is about hubris. Veriol was indeed one of the greatest Matron Mothers ever, but she became conceited and reckless. And it cost her her life. Her House shamed and exiled, erased from history, save for this one final deed she did.”

“Cautionary my ass.” Adriel spat. “Just another stroke to the already enormous ego of the priestesses. Not that you need any encouragement anyway.”

Lilith pushed Milifae away and landed a blow in Adriel’s face.

“Watch that wagging tongue of yours!” She growled “Or you’ll soon find it tied around your neck on a string.”

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?” Adriel laughed and wiped the blood from his broken lip. Lilith struck him again, but the warrior just laughed it off. The priestess shoved him away and left, cursing under her breath.

“Stop aggravating her!” Milifae smacked her brother around the head. “Sheesh. Goddess, you’re stupid, Adriel. It’s like you provoke her on purpose to hit you.”

Adriel didn’t look at his sister, just kept on laughing. Milifae left him, running after Lilith through a patch of luminescent mushrooms. The warrior’s laughter died as soon as he was alone.

“Do what you may.” He muttered to Lilith’s ever-shrinking form in the distance “But I meant every word I said.”

* * *

After the exchange between her and her cousins, Lilith was considerably pissed. She began to pester the soldiers and scouts to keep moving. The expedition went a full day without stopping. When they reached the narrow pathway leading away from the plains to another tunnel, everyone was exhausted. Rizzen went to try and negotiate with Lilith a short rest before guiding the caravan of several carts and troops over the pathway, but she wasn’t having it.

“The scouts and soldiers are tired, and the animals are exhausted. They can’t go any further.” He tried to reason.

“One day? Is that all you lazy mongrels can manage before whining for your mama?” Lilith hissed much like the vipers on her belt. “No. We’re leaving this thrice-cursed cavern, and we’ll only rest when we see the raging fire of the world of light. Not before.”

“We can’t go on like this.” Rizzen pleaded. “You surely see that if you push your troops to the point of dropping dead, you’ll eventually be defenceless.”

Lilith’s head was about to blow up. Her complexion became a strange hue of boiled beetroot mixed with her base of graphite black.

“Have all of you forgotten what it means to obey the orders of a High-Priestess?!” She exploded on the mercenary. “Ever since we left House Drisraen’s estates, none of you do anything else, but defy me!”

Rizzen cast down his eyes and backed away slowly, keeping his head bowed.

“I beg your forgiveness, _Yathtallar._ ” He asserted calmly “We cannot go further, and no amount of threats or physical insults will change this fact. Let us rest a little while, and we’ll go even faster.”

Lilith took a step closer to Rizzen.

“Look at me!” She ordered. He raised his head and stared right into her eyes.

“We. Will. Not. Stop. Until. We. Reach. The. Surface!” Lilith yelled into Rizzen’s face and let her vipers loose as a form of emphasizing. “Do you understand, _mercenary?_ ”

Rizzen turned away before the glint in his eye could betray his outrage.

“I do.” He nodded. “I shall urge the troops on.”

He shook his head in equal disgust and disbelief while he left.

Soon Lilith came to regret her decision. While the troops and carts travelled through the pathway, they saw a shadow emerging from one of the caves above, and heard a loud roar. The sound of a dragon protecting its territory.

“Oh well, looks like we’re gonna die.” Shar’Nadal shrugged exhaustedly. Even Adriel remained silent to avoid provoking Lilith any further.

“Who trespasses in the realm of mighty Azzakghargax?!” The voice of the dragon boomed through the plains. Somehow it wasn’t as frightening as any of the drow present would imagine. Or maybe it was the indifference born from exhaustion. “None shall pass through my land without paying tribute!”

The drow exchanged glances and bets on what the single High-Priestess will do. Lilith stood atop of one of the carts, and magically enhanced her voice so the dragon over the cliff could hear.

“Show yourself, you pitiful excuse for a lizard!” She grated. “Face me and my army, I dare you!”

Shar’Nadal was absolutely sure about their imminent death by incineration, but he saw movement from the corner of his eye, and turned to see what it is. The dragon’s enormous shadow came closer, but from the angle he was looking at it, Shar’Nadal saw the truth: It wasn’t Azzakghargax, or its ghostly remains.

“I can’t believe it...” He chuckled madly. Rizzen and Airon stood close by and noticed Shar’Nadal’s merriment.

“What?” The mercenary scout mouthed to the rogue, and Shar’Nadal began to explain the situation to them via hand-signals.

_“It’s a baby-dragon!”_

_“How big?”_ Flashed Rizzen’s hands.

 _“Slightly larger than a rothe.”_ Shar’Nadal measured by pointing at one of the beasts tied to the carts.

 _“We can take it down easily.”_ Airon pondered, but he cast a hesitating look at Rizzen.

 _“No. Wait until she gives the order.”_ The captain sneered and glanced over to Lilith, still posing like a heroic statue on top of the supply cart, unaware of the males’ exchange.

“Bold of you to assume I will not burn you and your pathetic army to cinder.” The dragon huffed. “But you are lucky, elf.”

The shadow came closer, growing in size and flapped its wings.

“I see you have plenty of goods on you!” The booming voice lost its edge, and this time Lilith caught it as well. “I say you pay your tribute to me, and you might cross my lands. Deny me, and you’ll burn!”

Lilith wondered what to do. She looked over to her troops and their pathetic state convinced her that it would be a waste to sic them on the dragon. She scolded herself for letting her pride override her common sense, but now it wasn’t the time for that.

“Very well!” She shrugged and began to descend from her spot. “I shall pay your tribute, dragon.”

“Excellent!” Came a much thinner voice, then it changed back to the much more terrifying deep one. “I mean... You may bring me one rothe and a purse full of gold. I assume you have no princesses with you.”

Shar’Nadal ducked behind a cart and couldn’t stop wheezing. Airon explained everything to the scouts, and Rizzen also informed the soldiers. Everyone tried to keep a straight face while Lilith gave the orders to give one rothe and a small purse of gold to the dragon, delivered by Milifae.

The other priestess wasn’t as devout as she ought to be, but as she climbed the steep path through the cliff’s top to the dragon’s nest, she prayed for Lolth’s rare instances of mercy. The rothe also sensed the danger, for it almost yanked itself free from Milifae’s grasp several times before she finally stopped in front of the cave’s gaping maw.

“Enter!” The dragon commanded, and she pulled the rothe along while disappearing in the lair. It was considerably dreary and bare for a dragon’s nest, and Milifae forgot about the reason she was treading the stone tied to a rothe until the creature showed up before her. In fact, she almost bumped into it.

“Where’s my gold, witch?” The dragon inquired. Milifae raised her brow, and as soon as her mind registered the fact that this dragon was roughly the same size of the animal she was dragging behind her, she squealed.

“Oh, look at you! You’re so tiny!”

“What?” The dragon backed away. “No. Stop! I am the shadow of imminent destruction! I am not tiny!”

“Tiny, cute baby-dragon!” Milifae extended her arm and scratched the dragon’s chin.

“I will bite your head off!” The dragon bared its teeth, but as soon as she began scratching, it closed its eyes and flattened its ears. “All right. I will bite your head off, but not right away.”

“Oh, you’re a fierce and terrifying dragon, are you?” Milifae cooed and let the rothe loose, which bolted straight to the exit. “Barely out of the egg and harassing bypassers!”

The dragonling purred and tilted its head so the drow could scratch its chin some more.

“All right, all right. You shall pass.” It sighed contentedly when Milifae stopped her ministrations. “But only this once! Return to my land uninvited, and you shall be eaten!”

“Of course, you little monster!” Milifae patted the dragon’s snout. “You cute little blob of darkness and hate, you!”

The dragon made a sound that eerily resembled chuckling.

“Enough of this. Begone now, drow! On your way!”

Milifae gave one last pat on the dragon’s head then span on her heels and rushed down the slope, nearly breaking her neck in the process.

* * *

It took them three more days to get to the tunnel which led to the surface, two more until they finally stopped because scouts and soldiers started to drop dead on their tracks from exhaustion and hunger. Lilith ordered her troops to rest for several hours before advancing towards the exit, now a blindingly bright portal to another world. If Shar’Nadal wouldn’t feel like he was about to lose consciousness while walking, he’d go straight through it. He stole a glance at his sister, now preparing to do a ritual before departing from the Underdark, and scoffed. She should have known better than to run them until they drop. It was all because of a useless flaunt of power, and Shar’Nadal decided then and there that he had enough of that. He forced himself to stand and walked around the makeshift camp the expedition made, skirting the single cart that had been emptied and was used to carry the injured and dying. They left the dead where they fell.

He saw the scouts huddled together and the soldiers standing guard despite nearly falling over. Rizzen only permitted two hours of sleep before changing shifts, so the soldiers could get some rest as well before they exit from the cave. Shar’Nadal found the captain standing in the cave mouth, looking outside, shielding his eyes with one hand and bracing himself on the wall with the other. The rogue sat down opposite of the mercenary, and yawned.

“Get some rest, we’ll be out there soon, and we’ll need everyone fresh and ready.” Rizzen warned him without even looking away from the scenery outside of the cave.

“I was wondering something...” Shar’Nadal mused. The mercenary turned away from the outside world, the light of the sun casting golden streaks into his snowy hair and making his eyes gleam like embers.

“What’s on your mind?” He sat down next to the rogue, favouring the soothing darkness of the cave after staring out at the sunny forest for so long.

“Please don’t get me wrong, but I feel much safer with you.” Shar’Nadal blurted out before he could change his mind. “And I see that you have something not even our House’s most capable soldiers have. And I want that. I want to stay with you after we’re done with this expedition.”

Rizzen was surprised to hear the confession, especially because it was unusually direct. Other drow might skirt the subject for minutes before admitting, if admitting at all or rather only hint at it.

“Would you give up your life as a member of a noble House, one which is the member of the City council?” His voice was filled with disbelief.

“Maybe my family is high in rank, but only until another House successfully wipes us from the face of the world.” Shar’Nadal shrugged tiredly. “Besides, I am only an asset. A tool, a weapon, a body for sale. Might as well sell myself before someone else does it, and to someone I choose.”

It wasn’t the first time Rizzen heard anything like that. It made his heart sink just the same.

“I can’t guarantee that you will get accepted.” He sighed. “And I can’t even agree on taking you with us. Your sister is the one who has the right to decide things for you.”

“I can decide what I want!” Shar’Nadal crossed his arms, but he was too tired to argue.

“I know.” Rizzen tried to calm him. “But still, I have no power over this. I cannot say that I will take you with me when my contract is over. If anything, you can come to our compound after we’re done, seek me out, and we’ll speak with Rezz’nar about it. That’s all I can offer.”

Shar’Nadal nodded. That was more than enough at the given circumstances. He scooted closer and leaned to Rizzen’s plate and chainmail.

“Hey, if it would be up to me, you’d already be one of us.” The captain sighed. “Believe me, I don’t like the idea of reporting to your sister about everything either. She’s so worked up lately she explodes even if just a pebble is in our way.”

“She’s usually not this volatile.” Shar’Nadal shrugged. “I mean... She’s just as cruel and remorseless as any other priestess I had the misfortune of meeting in my life, but she’s much more level-headed than this. I guess stress brings out the worst of all of us.”

When Rizzen didn’t answer, Shar’Nadal glanced up to his face. The other drow’s eyes were closed, and he was breathing slowly and evenly. The rogue smiled and snuggled next to the soldier, letting himself rest after the long and tedious ride.

Two hours flew away all too soon, and the expedition had to prepare once again for leaving. It came as a surprise when Lilith ordered the troops to find a clear place where they can establish a camp. It took her a long time, but now she realised that her soldiers need rest.

“It will take a few more hours until the light will be bearable.” Karissa reported to the priestesses. “The captain suggests you send our scouts and troops first, so we can find a suitable place to set up camp, and guide you and your House’s soldiers to it safely.”

Lilith pondered what she said, and nodded.

“Fine. Tell him to see me and I will give the orders to him directly.”

Karissa bowed immediately, if only to hide her sneer.

“I will go and send him right away.”

Rizzen wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t want to anger Lilith any more. He repeated the exact same order he gave to Karissa, and waited until Lilith gave her permission to depart. The Red Dragons seemed pretty relieved when they left the members and troops of House Drisraen behind.

Setting up camp was easy as far as the seasoned mercenary company was concerned. They found a nicely overgrown copse of trees they cleared and rearranged the foliage to cover the camp from peeking eyes. They used some of the supplies to make tents and living quarters for the priestesses, then set up the bigger ones, meant to shelter several people at once. The camp was completed with weapon racks and a practice yard, when Airon’s scouts returned with Lilith and her household members and soldiers.

The trip to the camp was eventful for those drow who have never been on the surface before. Soldiers were creeped out by trees bowing to the wind blowing through their branches, scouts cowering in shadows from the light, only to be frightened by small forest animals making noise. Everything was too bright, too loud, too hot or too cold.

“How can anyone endure this hell for a lifetime?” Lesaonar grumbled, while wiping his tears away from his stinging eyes. Another scout was close to breaking down from the noise; he shut his eyes and covered his ears with his hands, and bit his lip so hard it drew blood. Shar’Nadal went over to him, and gently guided him towards the camp. No one else seemed to even notice the scout’s distress, or if they did, they didn’t care. A small group of soldiers were attacking trees, because they believed them to be fae creatures sent by the elves to kill them. Airon had to explain to them that trees are supposed to move when the wind blows. So did all the plants they saw. Shar’Nadal wished the light would be dimmer, so he could actually see these wonders, but he imagined there will be enough time for that later. Rizzen said the light wasn’t so bright all the time, and that it would be dark in a few more hours. He held on to that, and tried to reassure the terrified scout as well.

Lilith wanted to defy nature by staring into its eye. Sadly, her own eyes weren’t accustomed to the bright light either, so she squinted and hoped she was heading in the right direction after emerging from the cave. They heard the sounds of the mercenaries making camp, and the creaking wheels of the carts pulled by disgruntled rothe, and Lilith wondered what would it be like to live her life out in the open like that. Free of religious tenets and poisonous trappings of society, just sitting on a cart and going where the road takes her. It was a childish notion, but improved the angry priestess’ mood immensely. She had a feeling of eagerness, wanting the world to darken to a bearable degree so she could finally see it for herself, as much as her brother did. Milifae seemed to be the only one, who didn’t mind to wander around blindly. She knocked her head into a tree a few times, until she could navigate on her own, but before she could reach the camp, she tripped on a root and fell over. No one laughed, but no one saw it after all.

When Selune’s light replaced the sun, the drow could finally take a breather. Shar’Nadal climbed up one of the trees and tried to get a sense of direction. He marvelled at the endless sea of foliage and the occasional mountains in the distance, all bathed in the silvery light of the moon. He remembered his dream about the strange lady and the garden. The light resembled something out of that dream.

“Do you see something noteworthy?” Rizzen’s voice came from below, and Shar’Nadal turned to him.

“I see ruins and lots of trees.”

“Those are probably the ruins of Myth Drannor.” Rizzen explained. “One of the lost elven cities of a war that happened thousands of years ago. Would you believe that way underneath it lies Zeberra?”

Shar’Nadal raised his brow, and turned back to see the crumbling remains of their light-skinned brethren’s city.

“We came a long, long way.” He muttered. Myth Drannor was barely more than a few silhouettes peeking through the foliage in the far distance. Rizzen leaned to the tree and waited until Shar’Nadal hopped down from the lower branches.

“Do you think elves live nearby?” The rogue inquired.

“I sure hope not.” The captain replied. “Because if they do, we have to prepare for a fight, and now none of us is ready for that.”

“Yeah, right...” Shar’Nadal rubbed his neck sheepishly. “They hate us. I tend to forget.”

Rizzen sighed.

“It’s complicated.”

He turned his gaze away from the younger drow towards the camp, where soldiers prepared food in a cauldron over a small bonfire. The commanders agreed that they need to light a fire, but made sure it was concealed and couldn’t be noticed by potential enemies from afar. The camp was eerily quiet, drow being used to the dangerous Underdark terrain, where the smallest light or noise can mean certain death. The night-time animals of the forest made sounds and the wind ruffled the leaves, and they could hear it all perfectly. 

* * *

Shar’Nadal’s tree-climbing exercises bore fruit after the second night. Everyone had enough rest and food – Rizzen and Airon made sure it was the case – and the scouts began to search for potential places to raid. The rogue spotted a small clearing where the drow saw a single human with some younglings and a flock of animals doing a sort-of ritual.

Lilith knew she would never forget the bizarre sight of an older human male playing some instrument while three younger females danced in a circle on the clearing. There were small, fluffy animals vaguely resembling rothe grazing on the grass and one single dog lazing about, keeping an eye on the flock.

 _“What do we do now?”_ Shar’Nadal signalled to his sister from the bush he was hiding in. Lilith shrugged, then though that if there’s a group of humans, it must mean that there’s a village or city nearby. She didn’t know much about surfacers, but she reckoned that it wouldn’t be wise to take the youngsters and the animals too far away from home unless they were fleeing. And nothing in their merry frolicking indicated that the group of humans were running away from an enemy or a predator. In fact, it was entertaining for Lilith to watch them, and know that they have no idea about the danger they were in.

 _“Kill the old and capture the young.”_ she signalled back. _“Let the mercenaries interrogate them about their land.”_

The old shepherd and his daughters never knew what hit them. The cheerful flute music stopped all of a sudden, and the laughter of the children turned into screams of terror, as the dark elves rushed forward from their hiding places. It was disappointingly easy to subdue and kill them. A soldier cut down one of the fluffy, small rothe-like creatures in frustration. Turned out they make excellent meat for stew.

The small girls wouldn’t stop screaming and crying while the drow soldiers dragged them away and threw them into a pit. Rizzen wasn’t happy about the way things transpired.

“I don’t think it was necessary to kill them.” He gestured with his head towards the earthly remains of the shepherd and the eldest daughter. The dog was chasing one of the scouts and a soldier was about to end it, raising a crossbow loaded with a poisoned bolt.

“But their lives aren’t too important either.” Lilith scoffed. “Interrogate the whelps, and find out if there’s anything worth our attention nearby. If not, kill them too and break camp. We’ll be moving forward.”

Rizzen cursed under his breath and went back to camp, while Lilith sat down on an old log, staring at the moon. She didn’t pay attention to the commotion in the background, and the loud yelp, followed by a thud of a metal glove meeting someone’s face.

“Quit it asshole!” Adriel growled at the soldier, who tried to rub some life back to his bruised jaw. “What did that dog do to you?”

Said dog was laying on the ground, with a bolt sticking out of its hind leg. Adriel went over, and ignoring the fangs and claws rattling his armour, removed the projectile from the dog’s leg, and bandaged the wound as best as he could. He didn’t know about the poison, so his heart sank when the animal closed its eyes and stopped moving. A few moments later he noticed that the dog was still breathing. Casting a pointy look at the soldier and the scout, he scooped the dog up and took it with him to the camp.

* * *

Karissa had the most luck with questioning the girls about their home village. She brought food and blankets for them, even convinced the guards to let her take the children out from the pit and keep them in one of the smaller tents instead. They were also happy to reunite with their slightly limping but otherwise perfectly healthy dog.

“Any interesting news?” Adriel inquired when the mercenary left the tent.

“Actually, as soon as we started to treat them kindly, they opened up.” She stretched her tried arms, and frowned at the loose buckle of her armour. “I need to get this replaced.”

“Isn’t it peculiar, how they seem to trust us just because of a few treats and a healed up dog?” Adriel mused, ignoring the female drow’s grumbling.

“They’re just children.” Karissa shrugged. “Humans don’t teach their young to be distrustful if they don’t have a reason to.”

“Fools.” Adriel spat on reflex.

Karissa stopped and turned back to the warrior.

“I mean... Are they?” She crossed her arms in front of her. “Can you imagine a drow child that has never tasted the bite of a snake-whip, and was never taught to be wary of others?”

“I saw dead children, if that is what you’re asking...” Adriel grumbled in response.

“No.” Karissa asserted firmly. “I want you to imagine something outside of what have been taught to you. Wouldn’t it be better if we didn’t have to be on edge all the time?”

“That is what keeps us alive.” Adriel objected. “Not meaningless idealism.”

“Right. Defend the senseless violence and endless chasing of rank, title and wealth then. I was indeed a fool for thinking you are capable to be more than that.”

Adriel raised his brow as he watched her back getting farther away until she disappeared from sight.

“The captives hail from a small logger’s village named Oaksgrove.” Karissa reported to Lilith and the rest of the commanders. “It is located to southeast nearby.”

She pinned the location on their map.

“Shall we raid the village for provisions?” Airon inquired. Rizzen didn’t answer him, but cast a curious look at Lilith.

“We shall definitely go and see that village for ourselves.” The priestess nodded. “And take what we can.”

“What about the prisoners?” Karissa voiced her worry.

“Kill them and bury their carcass in the garbage pit.” Lilith shrugged.

“I have a better suggestion.” Rizzen inserted.

“Speak!” Lilith cast a dirty look at the captain.

“We may return the children to the humans as an act of good will, or demand ransom.”

“Ransom for two scrawny waifs?” Lilith giggled derisively. “I doubt it.”

“Still...” Rizzen tried to convince her “Giving them back might earn us some help from the locals. I could return them and ask if the villagers know about anything worth our time. After all, it’s a tiny goblin-fart of a village, what valuables could they possibly have?”

“He has a point.” Milifae slyly added from behind Lilith.

“Oh, all right.” She grumbled. “Fine. Take the _iblith_ back to where they came from.”

Rizzen’s victorious little smile stayed with her throughout the rest of the day.

* * *

The whole expedition followed the captain, the dog and the two human children to the tiny village in a clearing, near the road. Several adults came bearing makeshift armour and holding pitchforks and scythes, axes and hunting knives as soon as they saw the dark elf with the girls.

Lilith stared in awe. She was sure Rizzen was walking to his death, but as soon as he began to speak, the humans lowered their weapons, and the children ran towards a woman in the crowd. Whatever he told them in their strange language seemed to work. Only a handful of the men stayed and followed Rizzen back to where the commanders had their hiding spot. Lilith began to panic, because she absolutely had no idea about what the mercenary captain was planning, but then he signalled to her.

_“Tell them we will not bother them!”_

Lilith’s eyebrows ran so high up her forehead they nearly disappeared under her hairline. How was she supposed to tell this non-drow rabble anything? She scoffed and left her hiding place, signalling for Adriel, Karissa, Shar’Nadal and Airon to follow. The humans stopped in their track, and even took some steps backwards when the other drow emerged from the bushes.

“Do not be alarmed!” Rizzen turned to them. “This is our High-Priestess. Only she can sanctify me giving you my word of peace.”

It was also a little demonstration of him having friends around in case the humans were planning something nasty. Rizzen had some dealings with them before, and if he knew one thing about humanity, is that they were unpredictable.

“What do you want from us?” An older-looking fellow inquired, suspiciously looking over both Rizzen and Lilith.

“We ask only for directions.” He answered, glancing over to Lilith, who squinted angrily at the humans.

_“Ilareth, usstan quarth dos ulu belbau ussta z’ress ulu nindolen waela rivvil.” 1 _

After they heard the drow woman speak, all eyes were on her. Rizzen turned towards Lilith as well, and raised his brow.

_“Vel’bol zhah dossta z’ress?” 2_

Lilith hesitated. It was clear that in this situation, Rizzen was the more competent. She sighed and waved her hand.

_“Ragar jalbol belaern.” 3_

Rizzen nodded.

 _“Asanque.”_ 4

He turned back to the villagers.

“Our apologies for the tragedy that occurred.” He frowned when he thought about the dead shepherd and the children they took hostage, and kept in a pit for a day. “My mistress wishes to assure you that it was merely a misunderstanding.”

“What kind of misunderstanding leads to an old man and his daughter being slain?” The village elder exclaimed.

“Forgive our mistake, but my mistress never seen the surface world before. We stumbled upon your brethren out in the woods, and she falsely believed their dance to be some sort of summoning. She ordered us to stop it before the demon comes.”

He hated that he had to lie. But he knew there would be no chance at peaceful negotiations if he would tell the truth.

“So it is done.” The elder sighed. “And you’re here for what?”

“As I said, we need directions.” Rizzen answered patiently. “I’m afraid we are lost.”

The men exchanged glances, probably contemplated if they could trust the drow, when Lilith spoke again.

_“Phindar!” 5_

Rizzen turned and stared at her in confusion.

_“Umm... Nelgetha?” 6_

_“Phindar.”_ Lilith explained like it made any sense. _“Ragar doeb ka phindar jivvin nina.” 7_

“What is your woman blabbering about?” One of the axmen came closer.

“She wishes to know if there’s any sort of monster troubling you.” Rizzen answered the lumberjack.

“Heh. Other than you?”

The village elder brushed his grey beard and hummed.

“If she wants to hunt monsters so much...” he began “There is one you might be able to deal with. In fact, we would be grateful if you did.”

“I’m listening.” Rizzen crossed his arms in front of him, looking into the human’s face.

“There’s this creature which escaped from a wizard’s lair... It walks on all fours like a cougar, but has bat-wings and a long tail which ends in a stinger. And its head is not a cat’s head, but a man’s.”

Rizzen nodded then turned to Lilith.

“Manticore.” He said which made the priestess’ features lighten several hues.

“So your mistress is willing to risk her life to save us from that monster?” The village elder gave a sly grin. Rizzen bit his lip and took a quick glance at Lilith then nodded.

“Yes. We shall find the manticore’s lair, and end it.”

“Good, good. You may keep whatever you find there. We want none of that. It lairs in the ruins of an abandoned tower, just a little southwards from here.”

Rizzen nodded and gestured for his fellow drow to move on. Lilith demanded answers as soon as they were out of hearing and seeing range for the humans.

“What was that about?”

“The people of Oaksgrove gave us a mission.” Rizzen explained. “They want us to kill the manticore, in exchange we can keep its treasure. They were also willing to believe my lie about the shepherd and his daughter getting killed by accident.”

“Well, bleach me and call me a _darthiir_ , captain. I’m impressed.” Lilith hummed in contentment.

The rest of their party wasn’t that impressed with the turn of events, but they had no choice but to follow the priestess’ will.

The abandoned tower stood like a finger on a skeletal hand sticking out of the dirt it had been buried in. It had remarkable features of ancient elven architecture, and maybe it was home to a reclusive wizard once upon a time, but now it reeked of decaying carrion and filth. The small group of drow stared up to the crumbling spire, wondering how to enter it without being noticed by the huge creature nestling inside.

Judging by its sheer size, this particular manticore was not a common one. It sniffed the air and let out a blood-curdling roar, its gaping maw nearly splitting its head in two.

“I feel your smell, little elf.” It growled and took off from the spire, straight into the copse of trees where Lilith and friends were hiding.

“If you come out you will die fast!” The manticore taunted, while it lashed its clawed paw out, hitting one of the trees, and severing a branch as thick as Adriel’s thigh. The branch landed next to Shar’Nadal and Milifae, who backed away deeper into the bushes.

“I hear tiny little footsteps of a cowardly forest mouse!” The manticore roared. “I had enough of this hide and seek, come out so I can rip you to shreds and feed you to my cubs!”

Rizzen swallowed a knot in his throat. His nightmare where Lolth demanded him to “feed her children” before he was engulfed in a swarm of demonic spiderlings came to his mind, and he shuddered. Adriel stuck his greatsword in the dirt and rubbed his hands together, to get rid of the sweat and get a firm grip on his weapon.

“Hey!” Rizzen hissed to get the other warrior’s attention. When Adriel nodded towards him with raised brows he added “No flashy dance moves! We need to take this bastard down quick!”

Adriel sneered and freed his blade from the earth, swinging it a few times.

“Pepper it with bolts!” Rizzen turned to Airon then, who signalled his order to Shar’Nadal. Milifae and Lilith were priestesses, so he didn’t order them to do anything. He didn’t even have to, for he saw Lilith’s hands already moving and Milifae nodding excessively. They also had their own little battle plan.

“Where are you, little elf?” The manticore taunted. Rizzen unsheathed his longsword and dashed at the creature while shouting

“Here I am dickhead!”

 _Rath’arg_ landed a blow to the manticore’s front leg, to which it reacted by flapping its dragonwings and flying higher.

“You will pay for this!”

“Come down here and make me!” Rizzen taunted back. He didn’t expect the manticore to actually try to land on top of him in an attempt to claw his face off. What the manticore didn’t expect was another drow with a huge sword jumping on its back from the woods, cutting its wing.

“Surprise!”

Lilith began to cast a spell and Milifae joined her. She cast a side-glance at Airon and Shar’Nadal, both loading their crossbows and aiming at the monster.

“On my mark...” Airon instructed the younger rogue. “Now!”

The manticore began to feel like this was an appropriate time to panic and maybe fly back to its lair and rethink its life-choices. It roared and began to thrash around, trying to get the annoying drow off of its back, while it got bashed in the face by the other drow’s shield.

“Go the _vith_ down!” Rizzen growled as ferociously as the monster he was fighting. Adriel jumped off from the monster’s back and slashed at its side, but his blade got blocked by the wing of the manticore.

“I shall tear your flesh from your bones!” The creature threatened and swished its tail, hitting Adriel’s hips and forcing him to stagger a few feet away.

Rizzen covered the empty place, getting out of the way of the dagger-like fangs of the manticore now snapping at the air where his body was only moments ago. Just when he was about to stab the monster again, two crossbow bolts landed in its hide. Adriel went to slash the manticore’s wings again, while Rizzen kept on hitting it with his shield and occasionally stabbing at it with his sword.

The manticore bit and clawed at them, or occasionally swished its spiky tail that hit like a mace and sent Adriel flying once before pushing Rizzen several feet away and making him nearly fall over.

Shar’Nadal aimed and let another bolt loose. He was afraid that the poison was ineffective against the creature, for it didn’t even slow down. He saw Adriel get to his feet and spit bloody dirt before running back at the manticore. He also saw his sister chanting and waving her hands, so he anticipated something big. She just needed time.

Milifae finished chanting and a red flash of light blasted into the manticore’s hide from her extended finger. After that, the creature became significantly clumsier. It tried to dodge Adriel’s attack too late, and missed an opportunity to slash Rizzen’s side open when he moved his arm to raise his sword. It still landed a blow to both warriors by launching its tail spikes, and successfully jumped on Rizzen, knocking him prone. The monster raised its paw and was about to claw the drow’s throat open, but Lilith was done with her spell.

The manticore’s hide began to fall out in patches, its skin broken and bleeding, and its legs no longer could hold its own weight. Lilith emerged from the bushes and slowly walked over to the creature.

“You should have never messed with a High-Priestess of Lolth.” She asserted smugly. Her snakes raised their heads and stared at the dying monster hungrily. Yet it wasn’t Lilith’s whip that ended its existence, but another round of bolts from the scouts’ crossbows.

Rizzen stood up and bowed his head. Lilith chuckled in contentment.

“Let’s see what the beast had in its nest.”

They found a handful of manticore cubs, barely older than a tenday, also several chests filled with goods probably obtained from a caravan the manticore attacked. Human remains littered the nest, indicating the not-so bright fate of the merchants themselves. Lilith was ecstatic. Not only she found various objects and goods worth thousands of gold, but she could corral the manticore cubs and sell them too. Though not too bright, manticores were still intelligent, they could speak and understood other creatures. Given enough time and a skilled handler, these cubs could be used as defence in a drow noble House, or as expensive and exotic pets for the more eccentric Matron Mothers.

After they relocated their camp to the ruined tower so the soldiers and scouts could move the goods into the carts, Lilith entered Rizzen’s tent to catch him alone.

“You deserve praise, captain.” She began, startling the male drow, who was in the middle of cleaning his armour and shield. Without them, he seemed much smaller.

“ _Yathtallar.”_ He nodded indifferently.

“To be fair, I never thought we’d get this much treasure in such a short time.” Lilith continued to chat, ignoring the tired expression of the mercenary.

“I am glad if you are pleased.”

“I am.” Her smile was honest, as far as he could tell. “And I also acknowledge that it is part thanks to you.”

“And your cousins and brother as well.” Rizzen added serenely. “No need to inflate my importance.”

“Do you ever strip out of this boring modesty?” Lilith teased and sat down next to the male drow.

“I am but a common soldier, milady.” Rizzen permitted himself a smile, but he still didn’t look at Lilith. “Modesty and a calm mind is what kept me alive so far.”

“Still...” The priestess reached out and turned his face towards her “It wouldn’t hurt if you let me compliment you, you know.”

“It may not hurt...” Rizzen began but fell silent. “I apologize, milady. The fight took a lot of my strength.”

Lilith sighed and left the mercenary alone. Rizzen felt like someone lifted a boulder off of him.

* * *

The next day was spent with preparing the expedition to return to Zeberra. Lilith planned to return with more supplies and make a map of the woods above Veriol’s Fall and the ruined tower where they defeated the manticore. They suffered losses and used up supplies, so it wouldn’t last until they get back to their homeland if they would stay any longer in Cormanthor. Even Shar’Nadal had to accept that, though he would gladly spend at least another tenday up in the trees, watching over the vast forest, trying to spot ancient elven ruins peeking out from the foliage. He tried to console himself with the thought of joining the Red Dragons, and hopefully getting enough opportunities to return to the surface.

They departed before it became dark, and kept to the shadowed paths of the forest, to keep them from being blinded by sunlight. It was hard to navigate the narrow paths made by deer and other animals, but the scouts managed after a few botches.

Lilith was colder than usual, and no one really knew the reason why, including her brother, so Shar’Nadal kept away from her as much as it was possible. At least she didn’t drive the whole caravan to the point of exhaustion. They had to stop a few times, because they spotted humans in the woods, and didn’t want to catch their attention.

So when Lilith commanded her troops to follow the lumberjacks back to the village, it surprised everyone.

“Why would we do that?” Rizzen wanted to know despite the obvious signs of Lilith being pissed at him.

“Because I said so.” She replied coldly. “I also promised my Matron Mother to return with enough goods to last for at least a decade, and we missed our chance to get the belongings of these fools.”

“We made an oath not to harm these folks.” Rizzen objected. Lilith didn’t care. She turned to the warrior with an amused expression, one that in her case quickly turned into an angry scowl.

“And we break that oath, because oaths sworn to _iblith_ doesn’t matter.” She explained “Besides, _I_ didn’t swear anything to these people. _You_ did.”

“We already have the manticore cubs and several chests of gold and goods we found in the manticore’s lair. Isn’t that enough?” Rizzen pleaded in vain. Lilith made up her mind, and straightened herself, looking Rizzen in the eye.

“I gave you an order, _captain.”_ she emphasized the male’s title “And I pay you for doing what I tell you. Is it something they forgot to teach you during your training, or you just missed class that day?”

The priestess’ taunting voice had its effect. Rizzen took a deep breath and was visibly forcing back a vitriolous remark. 

“ _Yathtallar_ , I only ask you to reconsider.” He pressed out after a short pause.

“Ask? You dare ask anything of me, while refusing to do your job? Just what kind of idiocy you and your fellow mercenaries suffer from?” Lilith laughed then she lashed out, grabbing the hem of Rizzen’s cloak. “Do as I said, and maybe I will consider to let some of them flee. You will slay the rest, and capture the ones fit for selling.”

Rizzen’s eyes were gleaming with the rage he tried to hide badly. Luckily his helmet covered most of his face, so Lilith didn’t see his expression. The priestess let go of him and crossed her arms in front of her.

“Tell me, captain: did you understand my order?” she queried, loud enough for the rest of their team – including Rizzen’s Red Dragons – to hear.

“Yes.” the captain hissed through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t hear you!” Lilith examined her manicure, not even looking at the soldier. “Louder, would you please?”

“Yes, I understood, Mistress!” Rizzen yelled furiously.

“Then get out there, and fulfil that order, _mercenary_! You’ll get paid handsomely for it!” Lilith shouted back venomously.

Rizzen unsheathed his sword and fixed his shield, then turned towards his soldiers. “Let’s move out! Take the females and children as prisoners, kill the rest!”

Goodfellow Oren just finished herding his animals into their pens when he saw the same dark elf he saw before. Or was it the same? Oren tried to identify. Black and red armour, a glimmering, black-bladed sword and a shield with a dragon on it. The old man was positive this was the same elf that asked them about a monster a tenday ago. Others followed, slowly emerging like dark apparitions from the evening fog between the trees, and Oren felt a strong sense of dread, and that something was wrong. He could swear he heard chanting from the forest, and as he turned to run, he saw more and more of the dark elves coming and heading to the village. He stopped to see if anyone followed. He saw no one. Just a moment before he could scold himself for chasing shadows, he heard a voice behind him uttering two words on the Common tongue, but with a peculiar accent. “I’m sorry.” Goodfellow Oren fell as the adamantine blade cut through him. Rizzen didn’t look at the dead human, he moved towards the first house in the village, and kicked the door in.

* * *

Fires burned where the humans tried to fend the dark elves off with their light, but it had no effect on the assailants. The Red Dragons had many assignments in the past that involved working on the surface, and Rizzen chose his subordinates wisely from those who had some semblance of tolerance for light. Soon the fires were fed with remains of the villagers foolish enough to oppose the drow.

The captain blocked a pitchfork with his shield, and retaliated with a quick stab of _Rath’arg_ , skewering the man trying to protect his family from him. He tried not to think, but it was harder than he expected. He thought he should have refused to obey Lilith and go back to Zeberra to end the contract. He thought he should have insisted the treasure they have is more than enough. He should have refused to kill people he swore to let live. The villagers were mostly farmers, untrained in battle. They were no match for the mercenaries or even a drow youngling, only learning his ropes with a sword. Rizzen shook the blood off his blade and moved on to the next house. And the next. He heard the screams and the sounds of the horns the humans must have blown to warn nearby villages or to ask for reinforcements. He didn’t know and couldn’t care less. When the first soldiers arrive from a nearby castle or bigger village, they would be long gone.

“Captain!” Karissa’s warning tore him out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw a human in fairly decent armour formerly belonging to a knight, charging towards him. Rizzen evaded the attack, and blocked the man’s sword, feeling his arm tingle from the impact. The man was old – though maybe no older than Rizzen in years, yet much older in appearance – yet had remarkable strength and fortitude.

Rizzen counter-attacked and his sword also slid off from the griffon shaped heraldry on the old man’s shield. He blocked Rizzen’s attacks and the drow evaded or warded off the human’s attempts as well. The difference between human and elf physiology was on Rizzen’s side though, for despite his age, he was still young while his opponent became tired and sluggish much sooner. He held on against the knight, but was unprepared for the magical attack.

Rizzen felt his legs weakening and the stark white light of the spell blinded him for a moment, but then it dissipated just as abruptly as it came. The knight stared at him, awe and disbelief written on his features, completely unaware of the other drow about to hit him from behind.

As soon as Karissa’s pommel hit the old man’s head, he collapsed. She rushed over to Rizzen, and when she saw that he was more or less all right, she nodded at him and ran towards another fighting group. Rizzen put his weapon and shield away, and checked if the knight was alive. When he found a faint but steady pulse he nodded, and dragged the unconscious human into safety and stashed his weapons near him. He cast one last glance at the old man, who already began to come to his senses. He maybe even saw Rizzen’s figure leaving the shack.

* * *

The trip back to Zeberra was tense, filled with suppressed enmity between the Red Dragon mercenaries and members of House Drisraen. Rizzen wasn’t the only one outraged at Lilith’s behaviour, but no one dared to voice their disagreements. Her little demonstration of power before they attacked the people of Oaksgrove was enough to deter even the most vocal of mercenaries from angering her. Airon tried to cheer Rizzen up but he wasn’t having it, always looking at the cart filled with chained humans, mostly children. House Drisraen would gain fortunes by selling all of them along with the goods from the manticore’s nest.

“I should have refused to obey her.” He ground through his clenched teeth.

“And what good would that do?” Airon patted his shoulder. “I feel sorry for these people as much as you do, but refusing to do your job would just cost you your head, and probably our contract, and I sure as the Nine Hells wouldn’t want to explain all of it to Rezz’nar.”

Rizzen lowered his head and sighed.

“You’re right.” He remembered his last conversation with his commander, and hoped he can return with a successful mission report after they get paid by Lilith. Right now, he didn’t even had patience for Shar’Nadal, so the younger drow began to avoid him, sulking in one place or the other alone for the remainder of the journey.

When the gates of Castle Drisraen finally closed behind the caravan, everyone felt like undead. The House soldiers and scouts departed and got replaced by fresh ones who stayed behind, to deliver the slaves and the goods to the dungeon and the treasury respectively. The Red Dragons were eager to leave, so Airon once again prodded Rizzen to go and talk with Lilith about payment.

He found her in her quarters, preening in front of her vanity after probably finishing a well-deserved bath. She beamed at him and stood up, shooing away the common servant who brushed her hair.

“Well, well. Captain Kazzaren! I thought you were halfway to your compound by now.”

Rizzen averted his eyes from her, and cleared his throat.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, but I came to discuss payment for my company’s services.”

Lilith made a face like it only dawned on her now that she needs to pay the mercenaries.

“My Goddess, I almost forgot.” She pointed at one of the cushioned seats “Sit! I shall send for Barend and see to it that you get the exact amount of gold we agreed on.”

Afraid of getting on her bad side again, Rizzen sat down on the cushions stiffly. Lilith ordered the servant to fetch the duergar bookkeeper, and to bring some rootwine on her way back and two cups.

“It is really unnecessary...” Rizzen objected, but Lilith waved her hand.

“Share a drink with me, captain! You deserve it!”

Rizzen fought back his biting remark again, and nodded. He kept on sulking as long as Lilith returned with a tray holding a bottle and two exquisite crystal glasses.

“So you will leave me so soon.” Lilith lamented while she poured their drinks. “Such a pity.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Rizzen commented indifferently. He wanted to be miles away from Castle Drisraen, even Zeberra itself.

“Silly captain.” Lilith chuckled maliciously. “Am I that hard to read, or you are obtuse on purpose?”

Rizzen took a swig from his glass. The rootwine was bitter and it left an unpleasant aftertaste on his tongue.

“There will be a little celebration of my success.” Lilith chattered on, drawing circles with her fingertip on top of her glass. “I want you to stay and attend it.”

“I can’t, I’m sorry.” Rizzen felt his heart beat faster and he searched his mind for appropriate excuses.

“Come now...” Lilith began to lose patience. “Your commander can wait another day. Besides, if you refuse I might just tell him about your insubordination and break the contract without paying.”

Rizzen drank because if his mouth was free his not-too kind words might find a way out. And he didn’t want that. He forced himself to remain calm, but the trembling of his hand betrayed his anger.

“What do you say, captain? Will you attend my victory-ball? You can bring your friends too; there will be enough drinks for everyone!”

The priestess’ flippant tone grated on his nerves, but he was wiser than to let her under his skin like that.

“Now that you so generously invited me and my mercenaries, I feel I can’t refuse.” He sneered.

“Wonderful!” Lilith returned his sneer with her own. “You may occupy the soldier’s quarters... Or stay in mine.”

Rizzen stood up.

“Forgive me milady, but I have work to do. I shall pass your invitation to the victory-ball to my subordinates.” He bowed and fled the room. It took him an enormous dose of self-control not to slam the door behind him. He heard Lilith’s laughter from the corridor while he quickened his pace to get as far from that dangerous female as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> 1- "Captain, I want you to deliver my will to these foolish humans."  
> 2 - "What is your will?"  
> 3 - "Find anything valuable."  
> 4 - "As you wish."  
> 5 - "Monster!"  
> 6 - "Umm... Pardon?"  
> 7 - "Monster. Find out if there's any monster harrassing them."
> 
> \- The Derp Dragon was this ridiculous/hilarious in game, and I regret nothing.  
> \- The two spells Milifae and Lilith casted were "Bane" and "Harm" respectively. I tried to stay true to the spell descriptions in the Player's Handbook as much as it was possible, but I may failed to do so.  
> \- As far as my game rule knowledge go, "Smite Evil" doesn't work if your opponent is actually good-aligned. I might be wrong though.
> 
> And now on a slightly more serious tone - the thing about cutting 10 chapters out of the final length of the fic...
> 
> I hit a nice big writer's block along with crippling doubts about doing justice to any of the topics I'm trying to write about both in this fanfic and in my other FR one, "Runaway".
> 
> I've seen so many people complaining over the net about serious topics getting wrongly presented or "being stereotypical" to downright accusing people of fetishizing the given content. And since my other fic deals pretty heavily with PTSD, and I'm still doing research for that, I feel like I have to take a step back and analyse the setting and the story in both of my fics. I'm also aware that having a supportive group of friends and/or significant other will not make a serious, trauma-induced mental illness go away, and I'm in no way "romanticizing" it, neither here nor in the other fic. 
> 
> I also have to re-evaluate some other aspects of my characters, for the way they are portrayed and if it is harmful or not (please note that I'm *not* talking about the "bad guys" here, or just the average trashbags like Lesaonar. I intended them to be unlikable and horrible people, so if they brushed you the wrong way then I consider my job well-done on that part). I hate stereotypes with a passion, but I feel like some (if not most) of my characters might come across as stereotypical depiction of a group or another, and I don't want that. I know there's plenty of messed up shit in here, and I know most people reading this fic are aware that the drow are overall a bunch of toxic and abusive a-holes. But if you're new here, and you made it this far, do not make the assumption of me romanticizing abuse and toxic behaviour just because I write about it. I will keep repeating this until people finally realise that what one writes about is not necessarily what they *are* about, if it makes any sense. 
> 
> I have been feeling burnt out and stressed for weeks now, and I also don't want this to ruin the already substandard quality of my writing even more (also, I know this is annoying. I don't do this for attention-whoring, I really do think that my skills are mediocre at best, and try to improve on my own way and own pace.)
> 
> And I really feel bad for dumping this out here on you people, but I have literally no one to talk this issue about, and it affects you in waiting for an update in vain, so I felt like if I can provide an explanation for why it takes me so long to update, I will. I know I don't owe anyone anything, but I wanted you to know. I'm also interested if you came across something like that, when someone made a completely false assumption of you (or just a random fanfic writer) based on the content of fics.
> 
> Thank you all who read and gave feedback, it is appreciated, and let's hope I'll be through this soon! I will keep working on my fics, just don't know how frequently can I update them.


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